#should not put this on tumblr no sir. people i know in real life follow this account. whatever.

[tiredlinguist]

ogh

[musings-of-a-rose]

Hey! I don’t know if you’re taking requests but I just had a really angsty, sad Frankie idea. Reader used to be in Delta force with the guys but something bad happened, reader dies or is really badly injured. Frankie takes her hat, Standard Heating Oil, and from then on, he wears it every single day as a tribute to his fallen team member (who he was secretly in love with. Maybe he told reader, maybe he didn’t…) Anyway, that’s my idea. Thanks!

Catfish and Shadow

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f! Reader

Word Count: 5400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: This was such a good ask! It hurts in all the right ways. I’m actually going to pull a little from a real life experience that happened to my husband. If I remember, I’ll put an author’s note at the end with what happened! Huge thanks to @rhoorl for beta reading - if you haven't checked our her fics, go now!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

“Hold on, Shadow. There’s still some hair sticking out from under your hat.” Frankie turns slightly to me from his place next to me in the dark hallway, reaching up to tuck a random strand of my loose hair under my hat. His fingers linger slightly as his eyes glance down at mine, a quick, soft smile on his face, seeming like he wants to say something but changes his mind at the last minute.

“One of these days you’ll have to tell me what the Standard Heating Oil is from,” Frankie says to me, nodding up to the patch label on my hat. 

“If we get out of this alive, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“It’s a deal. Please be safe, Shadow.”

“I always am. Plus, I have you watching my ass so I know I’ll be good.” His ears turn pink as he stammers. But before he can retort, Redfly, our leader, clears his throat. “Everyone ready? Shadow, your hat secure? We don’t want them knowing you’re a woman if we can help it.”

I nod, swallowing down the nerves in my stomach. “Yes, sir.”

Redfly nods at me before looking at Frankie. “Make sure to watch her six. She’s smaller than you, less noticeable, so she’ll be on the ground.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ironhead, Pope, Benny. Ready?” They all grunt their affirmatives, shifting their stance and double checking their concealed weapons were still concealed. “Alright. Let’s move.”

Quietly, we all file out from the darkened hallway, making our way to the front of the clay hut where we had changed into our undercover civilian clothes. The mission was to make it to a building several blocks away and gain access, taking out the mercenaries inside. So far, they have no idea we’re here. Waiting a minute or 2 between people, I leave the hut, taking a left turn towards the center of the town, feeling Frankie’s eyes on me from the rooftops, where he had assumed his position several minutes earlier. 

“Duck your head to the right when you round this corner. There’s a group of men,” His voice rasps in my ear over the speaker. I’ll never get over how sexy his voice sounds in this thing, and maybe one day I’ll have the guts to actually tell him. I do as he says, shifting my head more right as I round the corner, pretending to look at some wares a shopkeeper had set up. Luckily the men took zero notice of me, laughing loudly at some joke, their guns slung over their shoulders swaying with their laughter. 

“Lookin’ good, Shadow. Just normal civiies all the way to the rendezvous.” I nod slightly, following my orders to say nothing as my voice would give me away not only as a female, but an American as well. I make it to the rendezvous and lean against a wall, looking like I was bored waiting for someone but really I was watching the building front several feet away. A few men file out, but the door closes behind them solidly. I watch the building for several more minutes, hearing the rest of my squad all make it to their positions.

“Advance.” Redfly’s voice speaks in my ear and I push off from the wall, nonchalantly heading towards the front door. No one even looks at me aside from Frankie, who’s eyes I feel boring into me. Taking a deep breath, I make it to the front door, raise my fist, and knock twice, then once, then 3 more times in rapid succession, repeating the pattern the other men had used before entering. The door opens and a man stands there, his eyes meeting mine and briefly showing his non-recognition before the smoke bomb I had concealed in my hand clanks to the floor behind him. 

Smoke billows out quickly from the bomb and I duck to the side of the building, hearing Benny, Ironhead, and Pope advance, their gunfire quietly echoing inside the thick clay building. I meet Redfly around the back and he slides me a gun, both of us covering the back exit, taking out a few men who tried to escape instead of holding down the building. One man we miss, but Frankie’s silent but deadly shot rings out from above, the man crumpling to ground, his body silent and unmoving, eyes open but the person gone. 

We hear the team move through the rest of the small, 3-storied house, clearing out the floors, Redfly taking out another 2 that tried to escape through the front door where he had moved to a few minutes earlier. No one else tries to come out the back door and then we hear Benny call through the mic. “Clear.” Redfly and I move inside, me following behind him in through the front, meeting the rest of the ground team inside. I stand near the front door, watching the boys as I wait for Redfly to tell Frankie to meet up with us. I’ll feel better once he’s here. 

“Frankie, make your way here,” Redfly commands in his mic, Frankie confirming before going quiet again. 

“Did you locate the stash?” Redfly addresses the ground team. Benny shakes his head. 

“There’s a large trunk upstairs that we need to inspect.” 

Redlfy nods. “Anything else?”

Suddenly, a large, unfamiliar arm wraps around me, pulling me tight to someone’s chest, a gun barrel shoved into my temple, rapid words in a language I barely understand being spewed out over my head. My hands wrap around his arm but I can’t force it, the gun barrel pushing in further to my head. I don’t need to understand the language to know he’s telling me to not move. I freeze, the men in front of me desperately trying to negotiate my release, Ironhead rapidly spitting back words in the language I’m kicking myself for not picking up quicker. But then I hear a voice that instantly warms me, tells me everything will be ok and I swear if I make it out of here, I’m telling him exactly how I feel. 

“Let her go and put down the gun.” Frankie’s voice is low and demanding, sending a shudder up my spine but not for the same reason as the man behind me, desperately clutching me to his chest. Ironhead repeats Frankie’s words back to him in his language, a quick conversation happening between them. I feel the man’s grip start to loosen, but then a quiet pop sounds, Frankie’s yell ripping through the room as another shot follows, the man that had been holding me falling to the side, a bullet ripping through his neck as he clutches at it, the last few moments of his life spewing from him before he slumps and doesn’t move. It’s not until he hits the ground that I start to feel lightheaded.

“Shadow? Shadow, talk to me!” Frankie is there, dropping himself to the floor as he holds me in his lap, his hand moving to lift up my shirt. Pain rips through me and I grunt, his quiet shushing holding me here as he lifts the edge of my shirt up. He schools his face and that’s when I know it’s bad.

“You didn’t have to wait for me to get shot to take off my shirt, you know.” I can feel the pain sinking in now, the bullet lodged somewhere in my abdomen, slowly signing my death warrant. 

Frankie chuckles, swallowing hard to fight back tears. “Is that so?” I can hear Redfly yelling into his mic demanding a medic chopper to our location, the rest of the boys close but giving Frankie and I a little space.

I nod, coughing a little and whimpering at the pain that is caused by the soft movement. “You only had to ask.”

He smiles, tears he can’t stop welling up in the corners of his eyes. “Well that’s good to know. When you get patched up, I’ll take you up on that.”

I smile as best I can, my head feeling like it’s harder and harder to stay here. I blink and Frankie squeezes me lightly. “Hey, stay with me querida. Medic is almost here.”

I swallow hard, now feeling the pool of blood that’s collecting on the floor as it sinks into my pant leg. “Frankie, I don’t-”

“Sshh. Don’t say anything. You’re going to make it. You just have to hold on.”

But already there’s black at the edge of my vision, quickly beckoning me to unconsciousness, my head feeling more and more heavy as I lose more blood. I feel my eyes start to flutter closed as Frankie calls my name, the sound of a chopper getting louder and I’m trying to focus on his voice, his beautiful voice, but then I can’t, sleep taking me over as Frankie yells my real name…

“No! No, you have to stay with me!” Frankie yells, slightly shaking her body which had become more limp as her eyes flutter closed. Medics push in and at first Frankie tries to hold on to her tight, but then Pope and Benny are pulling him from her, letting the medics move in and try to stabilize her.

His Shadow. The love of his life. Why had he never told her?

Quick, rushed movements over her body, rapid words exchanged between the few medics before they place her on a stretcher, quickly moving her to the chopper waiting just beyond the buildings outside. Frankie moves to follow her, but Redfly grabs his arm. 

“We need to finish the mission, Cat.”

Frankie’s eyes flash with anger. “What the fuck, Redlfy? Shadow is dying on that chopper. I’m going with her!”

“No you aren’t. That’s an order.”

“Then court marshal me.” But it’s already too late. Frankie hears the chopper ascend, carrying the person he loves most in this world away from him as she bleeds out, alone. Well not alone, but not with him. 

Frankie screams, dropping to his knees as pushes his face into his hands, tugging on his hair. They let him have this moment, all of them feeling the loss of her, like a gaping hole that they have to patch up quickly that won’t feel the same. A minute goes by before Benny moves forward, dropping to a knee next to Frankie and putting his hand on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. 

“Hey man. I’m sure she’ll be ok.”

Frankie’s tear stained face looks up at him. “You don’t know that.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But I do know we have to finish this mission so we can all get back safe and find her. She wouldn’t want to lose all of us because we didn’t move in time.”

The anger in Frankie’s eyes simmers at Benny’s words. He’s right. He may hate it but he’s right. Frankie nods, wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve. He moves to stand up but then he sees it on the floor, Shadow’s hat, the Standard Heating Oil logo dusty from being on the dirt floor. Frankie picks it up and dusts it off, quickly adjusting it to his size before snugly placing it on his head. Everyone nods at him, accepting this way to honor their injured teammate. 

The mission is a success and they all get lifted back to base. It had been a few days since Shadow was airlifted back to medics and Frankie was itching to see if she was ok. He was determined to tell her how he feels the moment his eyes find hers. He makes his way to the medical building as soon as his boots hit the floor, Benny following behind him as the rest of the team goes to debrief. Frankie pushes open the front door and stops at the little receptionist desk, the woman behind it squinting at the screen as she slaps the side of the monitor.

“I swear they need to get us a flat panel or something. This thing is ancient.” She looks up at Frankie, a smile on her face. “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a soldier who would’ve come in 3 days ago, gunshot wound to the abdomen.” She nods as he gives her her name, the receptionist’s fingers clinking away at the keyboard. She squints at the screen again, another slap to the side of the monitor. 

“Yes I see her here…gunshot wound…and you are her...?”

“Teammate. We both are,” Frankie says as Benny nods over his shoulder. 

Her eyes move back to the screen as she reads some more, her lips moving with the words as she reads them. Then she stops, taking off her glasses and setting them to the side. She takes a breath and Frankie’s stomach falls out. 

“I’m sorry to tell you, but she passed.”

“Passed? What do you mean passed?” Frankie asks, the lady looking from him to Benny behind him, who had silent tears streaming down his cheeks already. 

“Fish-” Benny puts his hand on his shoulder but Frankie shrugs it off.

“No, don’t! What does she mean? Tell me!” He’s yelling now, Benny trying to pull him away from the receptionist, apologizing to her. She smiles sadly, a knowing look on her face. 

Frankie turns to Benny, gripping his sleeves as Benny tries to pull him into his chest. “No Ben, what..she..she can’t, I never told her-” and then he crumbles into Benny’s chest, face buried in his shoulder as he wails, a hole in his gut getting larger and larger as his grief consumes him. Benny holds him tight, his own tears at the loss of his friend that was like a sister to him, trickling down his cheeks as he listens to his best friend wail into the quiet hall. 

24 hours later they’re called out for another mission, Frankie pulling her hat on tight, the way he can carry her with him as he swallows down the grief that consumes him whenever he isn’t on a mission. He pours himself into his work, protecting his friends and doing what his country asks of him. 

I blink awake, the lights in whatever room I’m in are dimmed, giving the room a slight yellow-white glow. I shift and wince, the bullet would in my abdomen screaming at me to be still. I place my hand over it and feel a large bandage. It’s then I realize that I’m in a hospital gown and in a hospital bed, definitely not the med bay back at base. A nurse walks into the room and smiles at me.

“Oh you’re awake! How do you feel?”

“Like I was shot in the stomach,” I croak out as she hands me a cup of water, a straw sticking out of the top.

“Small sips. Yeah I would imagine it doesn’t feel great. Would you like something more for the pain?”

I take a small sip and cough, managing to swallow a little of it. “I don’t know, honestly. How long have I been out?”

She glances at my chart. “Several days.”

“Where am I?”

She names off a hospital and seems to see that I have no idea what she’s talking about. “It’s an American run hospital here.”

“So, I’m not on base then?”

She shakes her head. “No. They moved you here because of the severity of your wounds. Let me grab the doctor.” She leaves the room and returns 20 minutes later with a man in a white coat. He takes my chart from her and scans it, nodding. 

“How are we feeling?”

“Like we were shot in the stomach.” 

He chuckles at my recycled joke. “Yeah I imagine so. If you need anything stronger let us know.”

I nod. “The nurse mentioned I’m not on base?”

He shakes his head. “Your injuries were too extensive to be treated on base so they brought you here immediately. We had to do surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage it caused. You’ll feel it for a while but there shouldn’t be any long term damage, aside from a scar.”

I nod. “Thank you, doctor.” He nods and leaves the room, the nurse coming back over to me.

“Do you need anything else?”

“Uh yeah, actually. Do you have clearance? To ask about another soldier?”

She nods. “I do.” She takes a paper and pen from her scrub pocket. “Write down their names and I’ll see what I can find out.”

I write down the names of my team mates, my heart tightening when I write Frankie’s name, him screaming my name with wide eyes the last thing I remember before blacking out. I hate that I put him through the ringer. It’s not my fault I know, but at least I made it and now I can tell him how I feel. I think he may feel the same for me?

The nurse leaves with my thanks and I’m left to flip through channels on the older tv that’s sitting on a hanging shelf in the upper corner of the room. There’s nothing on but I mindlessly flip through them, nervously waiting for the nurse to return. She comes back a few hours later, bringing with her my medication. 

“I’m sorry it took me a minute. There’s a lot of Miller’s to sift through.” 

I smile. “Yeah. Common name.” She hands me a cup with pills in it, telling me it’s my pain meds and other post surgery ones. But it’s the way she’s not quite meeting my eyes that puts me on alert. I take the meds as requested, handing her back the small paper cup.

“Just me tell me. Please.”

The nurse sighs and hesitates a brief moment before taking my hand, gently swiping her tumb across the back of my hand.

“I’m sorry dear. But none of them made it. Looks like a classified mission. ”

I pause. “What?”

“N-none of them made it.”

“Did you tell them Delta Force? Sometimes we’re in a different section.”

She nods. “Yes, ma’am. It’s…confirmed.” She squeezes my hand but I can’t register anything else she says over the high pitched ringing in my ears. Gone? That can’t be right. They were all very much alive when I…no no no! They can’t be…Frankie can’t be….The wail that rips from my throat sounds inhuman, grief spewing from my body as I scream, the nurse trying to calm me, the stitches on my stomach bursting with pain as my stomach contracts and I throw up, continuing to scream as other nurses come into the room, one of them pushing a needle into my arm and I slowly pass out, the last thought I have is of Frankie and his big, brown eyes and how I’ll never see them again.

There was no funeral. Or rather it had been finished before I could leave the hospital. I couldn’t bring myself to fly out to their graves, to see their names etched in stone. Instead, I stayed at my parent’s house, grief and depression consuming me for years. Eventually I crawled out, poking my head above the surface and taking a small breath in the form of painting. I was pretty good at it too. I sold several pieces and some rich guy commissioned me to do paintings for every room in his house. Once that was completed, several of his friends reached out and before I knew it, I had quite a little business going. 

It felt good, to do something with my hands besides peeling back the skin at the corners of my nails. The hole the boys left was still very much there and I suspect it will never quite go away. But the wound Frankie’s death left behind still hurts almost as much as it did when I first found out he died about 7 years ago. Once I started painting, my parents tried to set me up on dates, but nothing ever took. I don’t want any of them. The other half of me is buried in the earth and I’ve been coming to terms with that. Which will probably take the rest of my life and the next. 

My phone bings and I set down my brush, swallowing hard as I look at the shade of brown paint, nearly an exact match for Frankie’s eyes. A quick glance and it’s a text from my mom.

Mom: You’re still coming this weekend?

Yes mom. I promised I’d house sit for you after the party.

Mom: Are you sure? It’s such a long way

Mom, it’s your 30th anniversary. I’m not missing that.

Mom: Well, if you’re sure. Don’t forget to pack that lovely dress I bought you.

Of course. Just promise not to set me up with anyone

Mom: See you Friday!

I don’t like the way she avoided that last one, but I can easily get rid of them. Once they get a glimpse of my PTSD, they run. 

Friday rolls around and I step off the plane, pulling my backpack up higher on my shoulder, spotting my dad through the crowd of people waiting just beyond TSA. He smiles wide and pulls me to him in a tight hug. 

“Your mom wanted to come but there was some last minute emergency with the cake.”

“Sounds serious.”

He chuckles and I smile. I had missed my parents. 

“Wanna grab a drink before we head home?”

“Shit, she set me up didn’t she?”

He laughs loudly this time. “She’s pretty obvious, huh? She’s just worried about you, kid. But-” he puts his hands in the air as I open my mouth to protest “-I told her you wouldn’t be interested and to leave you alone. As far as I know, she understands. Or at least she pretends to.”

A quick drink at an unfamiliar bar and then I’m walking back into my childhood home, nearly the same as it was from my childhood, just newer electronics. My mom comes into the room, her phone clutched to her ear as she listens to someone rattle off on the other end. 

“Well I don’t care how it’s done but do it! The party is tomorrow!” She hangs up and sighs before giving me a tight hug.

“Everything ok, mom?”

“Oh yeah. Just people not wanting to do their jobs. But it’s fine! You’re here!”

The party passes in a blur, one guy coming to talk to me briefly before my dad whisks him away, giving me a wink as he does so. The party was beautiful and romantic, my parent’s love on full display. They leave right after the party, jetting off to Europe for 2 weeks, the honeymoon they never got to have. And as the only child without my own children, I get the honor of house-sitting, which isn’t too bad. It’s nice to get away from the city and all the bustle it brings. 

Sunday morning I wake when I want, stretching before I head downstairs for some coffee, scratching absentmindedly at the scar on my stomach as I slide my hand under my Fleetwood Mac shirt. No, not mine. His. I had swiped it from him before our mission, a practical joke for when we returned from our mission and he saw it was missing. I slept with it for months after his death, eventually putting it in a ziploc bag when I noticed the smell fading and only brought it out on his birthday and when life got a little too hard. With all the love celebrating last night, my heart hurt and hung heavy, old tears falling new on my cheeks as I excused myself to cry in the bathroom for a bit, missing my what could have been. So I figured I needed the shirt. Sighing, I take a sip of my coffee, staring out of the back window at my mother’s garden, trying to take in it’s beauty and not fall too far into my own grief.

“You’re really going out there?” Benny asks Frankie, watching him toss clothes into a backpack.

“Yeah. We never went out there when we got back and I think it’s time. I just feel it.”

Benny nods. “I get it man, but what are you gonna say to her parents? ‘Sorry I never came to the funeral?’”

Frankie gives his friend a look as he zips up his backpack. “I don’t know, Ben. I just…after all these years, and the shit I’ve been through, I…I need to see her.”

Benny gives his friend a small smile. “Tell Shadow we’ll make it an annual thing and all come out to see her next year. Put an extra flower down for me?”

“I’ll make sure she knows one of them is from you.”

Benny takes his friend to the airport, pulling him into a bear hug before he boarded. The flight was uneventful, Frankie constantly checking the note in his phone with her parent’s address on it. He’d had it all these years, but never could bring himself to visit, to tell them her death was his fault, that he should’ve shot sooner or just taken the guy out. But he couldn’t tell them that, classified, and then he poured himself into his work, earning himself a sleeping disorder, a drug addiction, and a strong case of PTSD. He’d come out the other side of the addiction with the help of his friends, but the sleeping issues and PTSD remained. He supposed they always would, watching her face as the life drains from her, the love of his life. 

He gets out of the rental car, taking a deep breath as he walks up the drive to the front door. It’s a nice house on a quiet street and for a moment, he listens to the sounds of the neighborhood, picturing what it must have been like for her to have grown up here, run up and down these same front steps. Tears well in his eyes and he tries to swallow them back as he knocks, afraid that if he doesn’t do it now, he’ll back out and run away, not able to at least look her parents in the eye.

But when the door opens, it’s not her mom or dad or any of her siblings. Frankie’s breath catches in his throat, his heart beating so rapidly he’d swear it was beating out of his chest, his brain trying to process what he’s seeing. 

“Frankie?” 

I’m halfway through my cup of coffee when someone knocks at the door. I think my mom said some packages were being delivered but I don’t want them to sit on the porch. I set my mug down and walk to the front door, unlocking it and opening it to look into deep brown eyes. Eyes I thought I would never see again. My heart leaps from my chest, my stomach twisting, my brain rapidly trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. Have I finally lost it? Gone mad with grief? But then a slight breeze picks up and his hair moves and I snap out of it just enough.

“Frankie?” I think I say it, my brain still not sure if I’m hallucinating.

“Sh-Shadow?” His fingers reach towards me, barely ghosting across my cheek, but..they’re real. I can feel him touching me. He’s real and alive and I’m so confused but it can’t be my brain tricking me, right?

Suddenly he reaches out, yanking me to his chest and burying his nose in my hair, my arms winding around him and gripping him tight, inhaling him as my face presses to his chest. Tears flow freely as I grab at him, feeling him solidly under my grasp. 

“I thought you were dead,” he cries into me, his tears making my hair damp.

“I thought you were dead!”

He pulls away a small bit and takes my face in his hands, his eyes looking between mine. “This is real, right? You’re really…real?”

I nod. “I am. Are you?”

“I am. I…I love you!” And then his lips are pressed to mine, soft and slightly chapped, one of his hands sliding around to the back of my head, the other settling on my hip. I kiss him back, pouring a decades worth of love and grief into that kiss for several moments before a sob erupts from my throat and I break the kiss, heaving as I cling to his shirt.

“I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry! I-I-I l-l-love y-you t-t-too!” My sobs break up my speech and I feel ridiculous, but Frankie laughs and I start to cry all over again. I’d forgotten his laugh and how warm it makes me feel and I would do anything to hear that sound for the rest of my life. 

“I am barely holding it together, querida. I-wait. Is that my Fleetwood Mac shirt?”

My sobs turn into a seal bark of a laugh, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, feeling his fingers on my hip still. 

“Yeah. Ha-ha I got you!”

He chuckles as he kisses me again, fingers digging deeper into my hip as he walks me back into the house, kicking the door closed behind him. 

Instead of talking, we spend the next several hours in bed, Frankie pressing himself between my legs, sliding into me as if we were made for each other, years of longing and grief poured into every meet of our hips. Once we get out of a lengthy shower, Frankie lays on my childhood bed and beckons me to him, pulling me down to him as I cuddle into his side, my hand on his chest and leg over his, his fingers tracing the end of the scar that derailed my life. Our lives.

“You’ve been alive all this time?” I ask, turning my head up to look at him. 

He nods sadly. “Yeah.”

“All of you?”

“Yeah, why?”

I cry again, guilty that I didn’t confirm this before he pressed me into my bed but I was so overwhelmed I didn’t even think about it. He holds me and gives me time to cry, speaking words of comfort in my ear. 

“I asked the nurse to look you all up and she said you had died. That…that all of you had…had…”

“What? No, we came back from the mission a few days…after. Then we had to ship out a day later on a new one. I asked the receptionist at the med building and she said you had died.”

Anger surges through me at the years we lost over incorrect records. “Ok, who do I have to fuck up for this? Because this was bullshit. I…I don’t have words, Frankie, I-”

“I know, querida. It was either wrong records or they looked at the wrong name. And I may seem calm, but inside I’m seething. I just…I’ll deal with that later. For now, I just want to hold you and celebrate the fact that you’re alive and…wait. Did you say you love me too?”

“Francisco Morales, you have touched my body in nearly every way possible and you’re questioning my love?”

“Well I’m still not entirely sure you’re real.”

I shift, leaning up to press my lips to his. “I guess we have all the time in the world to find out.”

2 months later, we get married in my parent’s backyard, all of the Delta Force boys there to cheer us on. 

Author’s Note: My husband is a veteran who served around the time of 9/11. He was injured overseas and left the army. His friends/team mates all signed back up. When he was able, he asked about his friends in order to stay in contact and was told they had all died, killed in action overseas. 

Flash forward nearly 2 decades later, he makes a comment in a Facebook page for memes and gets a comment back with his nickname from back in the day. One of his friends had actually been alive this entire time and that friend had been told that my husband had died. 

Facebook may be a lot of shit, but will always have a spot in my heart for it for bringing back my husband’s friend from the dead. I will never forget the look on his face when he came out to tell me!

General Taglist:

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[newt-with-a-big-hat]

SHAKING MY FIST IN A SOMEWHAT ANNOYED MANNER AT NEIL GAIMAN

I just watched Good Omens season 2 and I'm gonna be ☝🤓 about it for a second bcuz none of my friends watched the show and I cant rant at them (exploding them with my mind rn)

obviously spoiler and unhinged tirade warning

and no im not proof reading any of this

So I got really into the books before it was a show (Im not like other Good omens fans ok) *gets shoved into a locker* So I was pleasantly surprised with the first season because I thought my annoying grinch ahh would hate it. It was faithful to the original but it still made it new and interesting. The themes, story and the vibe was the same. They did put more of a focus on Aziraphale and Crowely and made them slightly softer but it worked and was swag. I also liked what they did with the ending even though it wasn't in the book.

So when season two was announced I was hopeful but also really nervous. The story had come to a logical end (Ig it could continue with a war between humanity and a heaven hell alliance and the end of season one basicallly implied that that would happen but STILL) and then the other writer for the book, Sir Terry Pratchet passed away (SIDE NOTE: i hate when people only mention Gaiman in regards to Good Omens, put some respect on my man Pratchet). I thought a lot of the humour and charm the book originally had was very Pratchetesque and it just wouldn't be the same without him . (no shade to Gaiman btw but yk what i mean)

I found out later (two days ago) that they the two authors had actually discussed a sequel previously and it would probably follow the plot of that heaven/hell vs humanity war, but past me didnt know that ok? my point about it not being the same still stands.

When season 2 came out i didnt watch it for a month bcuz i didnt have amazon prime. But when I eventually BOUGHT MY OWN SUBSCRIPTION AND GOT IT 100% LEGITIMATELY, JEFF BEZOS IF YOU'RE READING THIS PLS DONT COME BEAT ME UP, i finally had no more excuses to put it off.

In the begining (BIBLE REFERENCE?!??) i was really getting into it. Gaiman was POPPING off with those jokes. The naked Gabriel thing was an interesting premise. It was silly, cozy, and comfy.

and then it sort of stayed like that?

Like in Season one the main threat was the literal world ending. In season 2 it was Shaz standing menacingly outside the bookshop? And I know there was the whole threat of them being erased from the book of life, but that was mentioned once and then not really brought up again until the end where all the threats were just resolved in like 15 minutes? In season 1 Heaven and hell were a proper threat, but in season 2 they felt like submissive Beta males for some reason. it just felt kind of low stakes and too easily resolved.

OK so my next part might make some ppl mad (pls dont be mean to me ill cry) so I will preface this with saying: I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST A ROMANCE BETWEEN AZIRAPHALE AND CROWELY HAPPENING IN SEASON 2 lets be honest they were basically married in the book anyway so  💀

However it kind of overpowered the rest of the season. while season 1 was focused on a lot of different characters and plot happening, most of season 2 seemed to focus on their relationship. I did like some of it (that magic show episode was a banger) but no real plot actually happened during that time ( I straight up forgot Gabriel existed).

I also wasn't overly invested in the other romance between Maggie and Nina. It was cute, but it didnt hit like Newton and Anathema did. Gabriel and Beelzebub was cute (should have been me not Gabriel tho), but it was all smooshed into the last episode. It was a bit of an information dump.

The season felt like a different genre, with different stakes and a different overall vibe. Im gonna be honest, at some points it felt kind of... fanfictiony? if thats a good way to put it? It became more of a character driven show.

While I was doing some serious academic research (reading other tumblr blogs) I found out that this season was meant to be more relaxed and a smaller scale compared to season one and an eventual season 3. It was meant to be more focused on characters relationships and getting everyone where they need to be for the final season (which i assume is going to be like the sequel that Pratchet and Giaman planned ages ago). And it was also filmed during the Pandemic which explains its smaller scale.

I have mixed feelings on it. It was an enjoyable season, but it just didnt feel Good-omens-esque, and the fact that Im a ☝🤓 and grew up with book means I cant enjoy it as much as I want to. Im hoping season three will bring back the originals vibes and redeem season 2 for me.

Ok so aside form my main critisim, I also wanna talk abt the charactarisation of Aziraphale and Crowely and the Themes. This ones less of a problem for me but someone pointed it out and now its bothering me a bit.

When I watched the ending I was ready to throw hands with Gaiman himself because I didn't realize that there was gonna be a season three where the conflict was resolved. After I found out I was fine again UNTIL someone pointed out that they felt Aziraphale leaving for heaven was kind of out of character. The main message of season one is that neither heaven nor hell is good and both Aziraphale and Crowely are on their own, and humanities side. Both of them realize that, and theres a whole scene where they make a toast to the world. The fact that Aziraphale suddenly goes all "I can fix him" on heaven seems a bit odd. I've got mixed feelings on this becuase on one hand it is an interesting conflict to have, but it does sort of seem ooc for him to do. Im deciding to rationalize it by saying Aziraphales gone a bit silly and goofy from all the stress thats happening.

Someone else pointed out that the fact that Aziraphale and crowely met when they were both angels kind of ruins the significance that they became 'friends' despite being on opposite sides. I kind of see this point too, and I did prefer their first meeting being in the garden of eden (mainly becuase it was funnier) but im choosing to interpret this as they were aquintances as angels and only got to know eachother later.

Im just putting my trust in Neil Gaiman and Season 3

OK ITS OVER. Most people probably dont care all that much because they touch grass and go outside, but I just wanted to rant becuase something about it was really bothering me. If you actually read this far im giving you a gold star and a platonic forhead smooch. ALSO PLS FEEL FREE TO BULLY ME FOR MY TAKES BCUZ I REALLY WANT TO ENJOY THIS THIS SEASON AND MAYBE A DIFF PERSPECTIVE WILL HELP. OK BYE

[wendimydarling]

The Thirst is Real

Summary: Little Freya might not be who she says she is...

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Little Freya 

Word Count: 1965

Warnings: uhhh.... slow burn; dirty thoughts; erotic thoughts; mentions of arousal, daddy kink, spanking, oral, masturbation, and thigh riding; size kink; slight manhandling; dom/sub kink if you squint.

A/N: So it’s been buzzing around The Cavillry that @littlefreya​ is either a mole in the community or Henry himself... @agniavateira​ (my beautiful goddess of a beta who also beta’d this fic for me) and I had a sensational conversation about what Freya and Henry’s weekly meet-ups would entail, and this beautiful birthday present was born! It’s also a little different that what I’ve done before, as I might have used some real life thirst examples in the fic. 

Did I call you out? I guess you’ll just have to read. 😈

You’ll get another gift on your actual birthday my love, but for now, please enjoy!!

~~~~~

Freya adjusted her curls in the mirror, adding one last dash of eyeliner. She was preparing for her weekly meeting with Henry, but this time her stomach was twisting itself in a spiral like a shirt ready to be dyed. 

When Henry first suggested the idea of her going on Tumblr to spy for him, she was hesitant at first. What if she couldn’t make friends? What if they didn’t trust her? But now, with a solid 6k followers under her belt, she knew she could say just about anything and people would flock to the thirst.

With a nervous look at her reflection, Freya gathered her things and headed out the door, sending a quick couple of texts to Henry.

I’m on my way. You should post on your IG stories… they’re wondering what you’re up to this morning. 

Perfect, thanks. I’ll send you what I’m about to upload.

A couple of seconds later Freya received his text, quickly setting up a post and waiting for Henry to update his Instagram. She smiled to herself; Tumblr would be buzzing in a matter of seconds once she posted, and what better way to show Henry what went on in the torrential world of social media than to show him live? Freya’s phone chimed again, indicating Henry had done as she’d suggested. 

She couldn’t help but grin like a demon as she hit the small blue button.

Pocketing her phone, Freya enjoyed the scenery on the short walk to Henry’s place. He was in London briefly as was she, so they were meeting at his home instead of Skyping like usual. Why she was so nervous, she didn’t know… Henry had been a friend for quite a few years now, even becoming one of her closest companions. He confided in her and she in him, and it was always a joy to see him. Every day she looked forward to their flirty banter. But that was easier when it was over the phone; doing so in person was an entirely different matter.

Freya reached Henry’s small home and knocked on the door. She’d only been there a couple of times, but the tiny house never ceased to give her a wonderful sense of charm and sensibility. A loud bark and clack of nails on the floor signaled that Kal was ready and waiting to greet her, which meant Henry wouldn’t be far behind. Freya fidgeted with her fingers and chewed on her lip in taut anticipation.

The door swung wide and there was Henry, sporting a puppy dog grin on his face and his large frame filling the entire entryway. His muscular chest was practically bursting from the snug grey shirt he wore, and his dark blue jeans couldn’t have looked more sinful. He had Kal by the collar as if the dog weighed nothing, and Freya couldn’t help but feel incredibly small. Henry reached out his hand, softly tugged her bottom lip from her teeth, then swooped her up for a one-armed squeeze.

“It’s so good to see you,” he murmured against her ear, sending chills down Freya’s spine. Her feet dangled helplessly as she wrapped her own arms around his neck, inhaling the sharp scent that had long since faded from the hoodie he’d let her “steal”. The fact that he was holding her petite stature in one arm and still controlling Kal with the other wasn’t lost to Freya, and the images it provoked in her mind of what exactly he could do to her with that kind of strength made her tingle. 

Oh, the positions he could put her in...

All too soon Henry set Freya down, shaking her from her sudden daydream. 

“Come on in,” he said, maneuvering Kal and ordering him to sit. Freya crossed the threshold, imagining what it would be like if she was in a long, white gown…

“I’m making a smoothie, would you like one?” Henry broke into her thoughts again and Freya flushed, hurriedly setting her bag on the table and pulling out her laptop. 

“Just some water please,” she replied, swallowing thickly as she realized how dry her throat was. She logged into Tumblr as Henry bustled about in the kitchen and quickly reblogged a few thirsty comments, scrolling through to find some good ones while she waited for Henry.

“Go ahead and start, tell me what ‘The Cavillry’ has been up to this week,” he stated, not quite a command but it thrilled Freya nonetheless. Stupid filthy gutter brain. She pulled out her notes and dove straight in.

“Well, a few of them like Lisa and Berry have a theory that there’s a mole in the community,” she laughed. “Some of them even like to surmise that I’m you!”

“Do they really?” Henry’s deep chuckle resonated throughout the living space and Freya closed her eyes momentarily, picturing that chuckle after a rather exhilarating round of cardio between soft, silken sheets…

“What else are they saying?” Henry’s voice was in Freya’s ear and she jumped, startled yet again from her indecorous thoughts. Henry set her water down next to the laptop and placed his hands on the table, caging her in his warmth as he leaned over her shoulder to read. Freya felt the familiar flush of arousal start to creep its way up her thighs but she did her best to ignore it, continuing on with her notes. 

“Marta made some really funny memes,” she stammered, “And Demi excels at clipping audios, where it sounds like…”

“How does it sound?” Henry’s hot breath ghosted over her ear, and his exhale came out nearly a growl. Freya felt lucky she was sitting down, positive her knees would have given out on her if she hadn’t been. 

“Like you just had a--an orgasm,” she faltered, grabbing her glass of water for a big gulp. Henry hummed, and Freya nearly choked on the clear liquid. 

“What else do they say? I want you to read it… out loud.”

Freya was shocked for a moment. What was he playing at? Wait a minute... this is a game; Henry is playing a game. Emboldened by her sudden epiphany, Freya switched personalities from timid bird to devilish vixen, determined to win whatever it was that Henry had set in motion. She arched her back and leaned her head against Henry’s shoulder, pointing at the screen.

“Well look, see what your post this morning has done? We descend into a thirsting frenzy every time.” 

She scrolled through a couple of posts, landing upon one that would give her what she needed.  

“For example, Miya writes: 

‘I guess good to know he’s on a morning run instead of fapping off… 

But good sir, you will have to shower after that no? And unless he’s a never nude, he’s going to be naked very very soon ladies. KEEP THAT IN MIND! IN A SHORT FEW MINUTES, HENRY WILL BE NAKED AND RUBBING HIMSELF IN THE SHOWER.’ ”

 Freya emphasized the last sentence and was rewarded with a small hitching of Henry’s breath. He recovered quickly.

“However did they know,” he quipped in a low rumble, reaching over Freya’s hand to do some scrolling of his own. Her hand was trapped in his but her thoughts were elsewhere, immediately flooded with the image of Henry getting off in the shower, water cascading over his hairy torso down the line of his abs and through the rabbit trail on his groin to the surely insurmountable…

“This one next,” he stated, drawing her back to the present. His thumb brushed softly over her skin before landing just out of reach of her touch. Freya focused her attention on the screen and a small groan escaped her lips. He’d chosen one of Wendi’s Smutbombs.

“...My eyes were instantly drawn back to his fierce gaze.

“You wanted to use that mouth,” he snarled, staring at me with lewd concentration.

“So use it.”

Freya’s palms grew clammy at the thought of using her mouth around Henry, in exactly the way the raucous words depicted. The way he would stretch her tiny lips until they burned, the way he’d fuck her throat without a care, the way he’d…

Henry grabbed Freya’s hand and abruptly slapped his phone on her palm, severing the thought. 

“Read this one,” Henry commanded her again, his voice now clear and authoritative. This time his tone left no room for argument; he was doing it on purpose. His arms still pinned her to the table with no way to escape, and she could feel the dominance that was dripping off of him tingling down her spine. 

Freya looked at the small screen, recognition of the words dawning on her face. She faltered, and cleared her throat.

“Yes, my bottom is always bare, Sherlock. Bare and ready for you to spank me and take me any which way you want.”

“Who wrote that?” he questioned sternly. Freya took a deep breath.

“I did.”

“Read the next one.”

Freya whimpered, clenching her thighs together tightly. 

“Fuck this shit I want to die on this man’s thighs.”

“Who wrote that?”

“I did.”

“Keep going.”

Freya’s chest was heaving. Her head was swimming with lust and need. Her arousal had long since wet her panties to the point of extreme discomfort. She was certain Henry could smell it too, as she certainly could and his head was still right next to hers. She watched his fists tighten on the table, the veins in his arms becoming more prominent with every passing second. Freya imagined what his hands would look like with one wrapped around her throat and the other buried knuckle deep inside her…

“I said keep going; you’ve got one more.”

It wasn’t just Henry’s voice this time that dragged Freya back to reality; he wrapped his hand firmly around her nape and pointed her toward his phone. 

She blinked rapidly and scrolled to the last quote. 

“...They share a mutual smile and she forces herself to look away.

They have always liked each other, he has always been kind to her.

Sometimes he would touch her as they sat with friends, a feverish stroke, innocent or by mistake, but that would be enough to make her heart flutter like a huge butterfly in the cage of her chest. 

To see him physically hurts sometimes. Especially on a night like this when she is supposed to be happy, yet her heart feels sorrowful.”

The moment her lips finished moving Freya was pulled off the bench and thrust against the wall. Henry pressed his thigh between her legs, his own arousal evident as it strained against the ridged fabric of his jeans. His face was gentle and sincere but his eyes were as dark with lust as she was certain hers were, and the tremor of his voice left no room to imagine anything but desire.

“Who wrote that?” he whispered softly.

“I did,” Freya whispered back.

“Did you mean it?” Henry searched her face, looking for any scrap of evidence that would present him with permission. Freya brought a hand up to his curls, brushing the one out of his eyes that always seemed to disobey.

“Every word.”

Henry slammed his mouth against Freya’s, probing her deep and hard. She kissed him back with just as much fervor, tugging on his curls and wrapping her legs around his waist as he hoisted her in the air. Never in her life had she ever thought this moment would happen, that he would want her this way. But now, here in his arms with his lips on hers and on their way to his bedroom, she couldn’t picture anything else. 

The man had ruined her for anyone else over a decade ago, and she’d been thirsty for far, far too long.

~~~~~

@wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @killjoy-assbutt-1112​ @achaoticaugust​ @demivampirew​ @raspberrydreamclouds​ I hope you don’t mind that I used your thirst! I though it might be fun, but if you don’t like it just let me know, I’ll remove it. 😊

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Six (part 1)

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3293

Warnings: ANGST, bad language words

A/N: Tumblr sucks. It forced me to split this chapter up because I exceeded the text block limit. That’s just how I write! Link to part 2 at the end.

A/N 2: Thank you again to everyone for showing this story so much love! And thank you to everyone for your patience and support as I struggled to put this out. As you can tell from the multiple parts, it was a doozy. 🥰 divider credit- @firefly-graphics​

In case you missed the update, I will be publishing a new chapter every other Saturday from here on out. Schedule is in the Masterlist in my header.

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission.

Monday morning rolled around, and your good mood from the weekend followed you into the office. Spending all of Saturday and the majority of Sunday texting James had lent to this early morning cheerfulness. You couldn’t help the smile on your face. You had even managed to arrive before most of your team.  

You hummed a sweet melody as you booted up your computer and organized a few files for Timmons to peruse. They were statements intended for the press needing his approval about a particular prominent CEO or A-list celebrity client. The firm was not confirming nor denying any knowledge of said client’s whereabouts the previous week or why there was photographic evidence of them coming out of FlashDancers NYC. Other files included those seeking rebranding approval for existing companies looking to revamp their image.

Most importantly, today was contract signing day for Stark Industries. 

You had compiled the document from a generic template the company used for all its clients, manually plugging in Stark Industries’ information in the correct spots and changing or omitting any services rendered or not. E-signing contracts were not only environmentally responsible, but they also saved a lot of your time from printing out numerous copies of a single agreement.

All you needed now was Timmons’ go-ahead to email the contract, and Pepper Potts could plug in her Jane Hancock.

Seeing Timmons enter the workroom, tweed coat draped over his forearm and attaché in hand, you rose from the seat behind your desk. You shuffled into his office after him.

He hung his jacket from the coat rack in the corner near a bank of expansive windows and placed the small, leather case he’d been carrying on the sturdy oak desk. He pulled out a stack of papers and tapped the pile against the desktop to straighten them before setting them down. Looking up at you briefly, he tugged out his laptop next.

You positioned a mug of coffee on Timmons’ desk, turning the handle just so, making it easier for him to grab. You cleared your throat gently. He glanced up at you again.

“Here’s the media statements for today,” you said, handing him a group of manila folders. You smoothed down the hem of your cardigan, smiling at the reminder of Bucky. You wished there had been a way to apologize to him again. He had left your apartment with such a pained look on his face. Maybe you could ask Peter. “And the Stark contract pdf is ready to go. I can email it over to you for final approval.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Timmons replied absent-mindedly, lifting the organized piles on the desk as if looking for something.

“Oh, okay,” you returned, nodding your head diminutively. “Do you want me to forward the contract on to Ms. Potts, then?”

“Ah-ha!” Timmons exclaimed, plucking a pen from underneath a stack of envelopes. He twirled the writing implement in his hand and peered at you, finally taking in your presence for the first time that morning.

An uncomfortable feeling washed over you as he evaluated you from head to toe. What was he looking at? Your hands tensed into fists as you continued to wait for his answer, growing impatient.

“Should I go ahead and do that, then, sir?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest like a protective suit of armor to deflect prying eyes.

“Yes, yes. That should be acceptable,” Timmons answered.

It threw you off balance. What had gotten into him? Timmons always had to have the final say on everything. It was so unlike him!

“Just so we’re clear- I will be sending the Stark Industries contract via email to Pepper Potts to e-sign,” you said, seeking clarification. You wanted to dot all i’s and cross all t’s because you weren’t going to lay your ass on the line for a misunderstanding. Especially not with something as crucial as the Stark Industries account.

“What? No, there’s been a change of plans,” he corrected.

You stared at him dumbfounded. Was he purposely trying to give you mental whiplash?

“Change of plans,” you affirmed. “Has Stark Industries decided not to use the firm, sir?”

“Oh, no. They’re still going with us,” Timmons said, rearranging the clutter he’d made on his desk.

You dropped your arms to your sides, although inside, you felt like throwing them into the air in frustration. Why was he so vague? He was usually wholly transparent with you. “Would you mind explaining it to me, please?” you asked, borderline annoyed. “Last time I checked, Stark Industries’ contract signing was still on the calendar for today’s agenda.”

“And it still is,” Timmons acknowledged. “It’s moved to an in-person signing.”

Your stomach plunged to the floor. Shit! You hadn’t printed out the contract! When was the appointment? How much time did you have? So many questions flew through your head.

How could Timmons keep something like this from you? Your heart hammered in your chest. You practically wobbled on your feet. Were you going to be sick?

I’m going to get fucking fired over this, you thought, trying to steady your breathing.

“Will you be ready to go in twenty minutes?” Timmons questioned, sitting down in the comfy desk chair and opening his laptop.

“Go?” you squeaked, attempting to recall how much you had in savings. You shook your head, trying to understand his words. Was he already asking you to clear out your desk?

“Yes. The car will be here at nine,” he said, keyboard clacking as he typed something.

“Car?” you asked, finding great difficulty comprehending the situation. Your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

Timmons regarded you in bafflement. “Have you been drinking?”

“What? NO!” you declared. You didn’t need that added to “the inability to perform required tasks” as a reason for your firing.  “I’m-I’m just really confused, sir.”

“About what?” Timmons asked, sitting back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap.

“Well…” you started. “What do we need a car for?”

His chocolate brown eyes shone with what you imagined might be excitement. “To drive upstate, of course.” He smirked as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desktop.

Upstate? What was upstate?

Timmons’ smile broadened as realization crept across your face. “Are we-”

“Yup!” he interrupted gleefully. He was like a child in a candy store. “We are headed to the Avengers Compound with a personal invitation from Tony Stark himself!”

You blinked several times at your boss, not entirely computing what he’d said. You were usually a lot quicker on the uptake than this. Why were you having such an off-day? 

“We?” you asked, shaking your head clear of the cobwebs. Why on Earth would he bring you along?

“I need someone who knows the ins and outs of these contract signings,” he said, fiddling with his pen again.

Wasn’t that his job?

“I’m just the schmoozer- the people-person,” he admitted, shrugging. “You’re the real brains behind this whole operation.

You nodded your head in agreement. He wasn’t wrong. The office would collectively collapse without you, and it felt good to hear your actual boss say it out loud.

“You better not forget it, either. Especially when my job performance evaluation comes around,” you asserted.

Timmons swiftly saluted you as if he was the subordinate. You huffed a laugh at him while shaking your head with incredulity. You took a step or two toward the office door before looking over your shoulder at him.

Timmons had turned back to his laptop screen already and started typing again. “So, twenty minutes?” he asked with an air of levity.

You faltered, nearly tripping over your feet. “Wait? You were serious about that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Timmons wondered, looking up hurriedly from his laptop.

“I need to print out the contract and make copies, for one thing,” you mentioned, almost accusatory. Maybe if he had warned you ahead of time, you wouldn’t be so defensive.

“Already taken care of,” he soothed.

“What do you mean it’s ‘already taken care of’?” you asked, raising your hands to make quotation marks with your fingers.

“I had one of the other grunts do it last night.”

You gaped at Timmons like a goldfish, mouth popping open and closed. Did you hear him correctly? Timmons did something to make your job easier? You could hug him right now! You felt like pinching yourself to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

Once you gathered your wits again, you glanced to your feet bashfully. “Oh,” you spoke, absently fingering the bottom button of your cardigan. “Thank you.” You smiled gratefully.

Timmons returned the smile with one of his own. “You’re welcome.”

“Nine o’clock, then,” you agreed, moving further toward the doorway.

“On the dot!”

Words couldn’t even begin to describe the Avengers Compound. You’d seen it on the news, sure, but that didn’t compare to seeing it in real life. It was grandiose, imposing. You felt dwarfed in size looking up to the high rooftop. 

It was almost ostentatious in a way. Much like the man who designed it. Larger than life.

Tony Stark.

Tony had insisted he take you and Timmons around on the tour of the compound. You still hadn’t seen the need for a tour.

“When Tony Stark invites you to tour the Avengers compound, you don’t say no,” Timmons had said in the car-ride up when you questioned why it was necessary.

It was all superfluous, really. Like Tony was trying to woo the firm to sign them, not the other way around.

A headache was forming at the base of your skull as you waited in line at the reception desk to return your visitor security badge.

The tour of the facility seemed to have been drug out longer than it needed. Tony had appeared overeager to show off every little gadget or trinket. Or maybe he just liked to hear himself talk.

When Timmons excepted the lunch invitation after the tour was completed, you felt the urge to run down to the armory, grab a gun, and shoot yourself in the foot. You were kicking yourself for ever agreeing to come on this dumb tour.

As the line slowly dragged forward, the muffled noise of men’s voices caught your ear. It sounded like an argument. Your line of sight followed to where the altercation originated.

Standing twenty feet away was Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, clearly disagreeing.

Your breath stilled as you watched the two super soldiers quarrel in a near-stage-whisper. What could they be fighting about?

From your place in line, you saw Bucky shake his head adamantly, his chestnut hair swishing about his shoulders. He might have even stamped his foot like a child, but you were too preoccupied with the look of abject horror on his face. He turned away as if to flee, but his friend caught him by the shoulder to stop him.

Were you causing this reaction from him?

You looked to your right to see if there was possibly someone else. All you noticed, though, was an empty space. Had you hurt Bucky’s feelings that badly? Your stomach clenched. The last thing you wanted was to be on an Avengers’ shit-list.

Glancing back to the two men, you caught Steve gesturing Bucky forward with short sweeping motions of his hands. Bucky shook his head again, stubbornly.

Even at this distance, you could feel the frustration rolling off Captain America.

Like a sucker-punch to the gut, you suddenly became very aware you were eavesdropping on Captain America and his best friend.

Your cheeks heated instantaneously, embarrassed of your staring. You shouldn’t be spying on them, you admonished. No matter how much your curiosity is piqued. 

It was none of your business.

You turned away from them, facing the reception desk again.

As hard as you tried not to pay attention, you could still see what looked like wild gesturing from the corner of your eye.

What if they started fighting? Shouldn’t you be conscious of your surroundings for your own safety? You fidgeted in your spot as you debated your moral compass.

Fuck it, you thought.

As you peered over to the two super soldiers, Steve shoved Bucky forward gently, causing the latter to trip over his booted feet. Bucky glared back at his friend, his hands clenching into fists. Steve shooed him further. You could barely make out the word “Go!” on his lips.

As if in slow motion, you eyed Bucky taking step after step toward you. Was he coming over here?

Once you realized what was happening, your heart plummeted to your knees as your head whipped around to the front of the line.

Bucky Barnes was definitely walking over to you. 

Had he noticed you staring?

You tried to stabilize your heart rate with slow, easy breaths, but Bucky was beside you much sooner than you could imagine.

A waft of aftershave hit your nose- woodsy and deliciously masculine. Your stomach swooped.

God, he smelled good.

Without having to turn your head, you could feel his brawny mass hovering near you.

How do you play this?

Perplexed? 

“Oh, my gosh! I had no idea you’d be here!” Of course, he wouldn’t believe that. This is where the Avengers lived. He’d probably think you were a stalker.

Apologetic?

“I’m so sorry Peter and I made fun of you! Will you ever forgive me?” Nah, too needy or clingy.

Or--

Before you could think of any other ways to portray the situation, you heard a large gush of air escape from Bucky. Was he nervous?

“Hey-hey, (Y/N),” he said, voice shaky.

You gazed to your left. Bucky looked as white as a ghost. Had his ego taken that big of a hit?

At that moment, you wanted to do nothing more than wrap him in your arms and tell him sorry, and everything would be okay. You couldn’t, of course. You didn’t know the guy. So you settled for the next best thing.

You smiled at him beatifically. “Hello, Mr. Barnes.”

Like a veil had been pulled, his demeanor changed instantly. He returned the smile. “Ja-” he started but scrunched his nose as if he’d made a mistake. “Please. Call me Bucky.”

“Okay, Bucky,” you replied.

Timmons turned around, ahead of you in line, and eyeballed you. You gave him a dismissive look, praying he wouldn’t butt in.

“So, you here visiting?” Bucky asked, observing the badge in your hand.

“Sorta. It’s a work thing,” you remarked, waving the plastic fob in the air. “Stark Industries has hired my firm as their PR representative. It was signing day.”

“Ah,” Bucky said, nodding in understanding.

“And I got the tour and lunch courtesy of Tony Stark,” you added.

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky’s eyebrows raised in interest. “What did you think?”

“Honestly?” You watched Bucky shake his head in agreement. “It was extremely overwhelming. How do you not get lost in this place?”

Bucky laughed. Crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes, yet he looked so boyish. He was beautiful.

“When I first got here, I did several times,” he huffed. “Every hallway looks exactly the same!”

“Right?!” you exclaimed. “I kept thanking my lucky stars that I had a tour guide!” 

Timmons rolled his eyes and pivoted, facing front.

“Steve had to draw me a map to help me find my living quarters after the third time,” Bucky confessed, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, no!” you empathized, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. “That must have been so embarrassing!”

“Bird brain caught wind of it and gave me shit for weeks,” he lamented.

You gave him a confused look, not understanding who or what he was referring to.

Realizing his mistake, Bucky corrected, “Sorry. Bird brain is Sam.”

“Because he’s Falcon?”

Bucky bobbed his head yes, looking a little sheepish.

“It’s clever,” you grinned. “I like it.”

Bucky reciprocated the smile, and your chest warmed. It was a feeling you usually felt while texting James. Light and airy.

Finally making it to the reception desk, you relinquished your security badge to the pretty blonde in the too-tight sweater set. She handed you a clipboard to initial and fill out your departure time.

While signing, you surveyed the blonde as Bucky stepped closer. Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly, and she bit down on her bottom lip. Was she giving him bedroom eyes?

A new kind of warmth flooded your body. It felt a lot like jealousy as it snaked its way up to your ribs and circled your collarbones, which was absurd because you had no claim to this man. You’d met him one other time. Why would you feel this way?

Shoving the clipboard back at the receptionist, you spun toward Bucky. He regarded her politely and nodded, “Ma’am.”

Her shoulders slumped, and a frown slithered onto her painted lips. Somehow you felt triumphant, but not sure why. Bucky hadn’t picked you over her.

Your heart thumped harder in your chest as you walked side by side with Bucky, nearing the exit. You were suddenly overcome with the feeling of apologizing. What had you told James if you ever saw Bucky again? Apologize profusely and ask him to coffee.

You smiled at Bucky once again as he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. The sound of a throat clearing resonated nearby. It wasn’t until you glanced up did you register Timmons standing so close. You had nearly forgotten about him.

Trying to gather your courage, you glimpsed between the two men. Bucky was squinting suspiciously at Timmons, and it made you chuckle lightly. “Easy tiger,” you assured. “That’s my boss, Roger Timmons.”

Bucky’s blue eyes widened a fraction, and he raised a hand in hello. “Sir.”

Timmons raised his chin in acknowledgment before looking down at his watch. You took it as his way of telling you to hurry up.

Okay, it’s now or never.

“Would you like to go to coffee with me?” Bucky blurted out, cheeks coloring pink.

Your eyes roamed across his handsome face. The boyishness was back, along with a touch of uncertainty. He was sweet, regardless of what the media claimed about him. Your lips curled up into a broad smile. “You read my mind,” you revealed, then winced. “That’s not one of your superpowers, is it?”

Bucky tittered. “No, no mind-reading.”

“Good,” you said, relieved.

“Whaddya say? Coffee?”

You dipped your head in a slow yes. “It’ll have to be after work, though.” You motioned over your shoulder with your thumb. “The slave driver over there is taking me back to the office to put me to work.”

Giggling, as you heard a scoff come from behind where you were standing, you reached into your purse and pulled out a pen and an old receipt. You quickly jotted down your work address. Handing it to Bucky, you began moving towards Timmons. “I get off at five,” you called. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.” You waved goodbye.

Bucky smirked. “Don’t work too hard!”

You flashed him one last smile before disappearing through the exit door.

You had a coffee date with Bucky Barnes!

You couldn’t believe it! The giddiness swelled inside you.

You gazed at Timmons’ profile as you walked to the waiting car parked at the curb. He had that look on his face.

It was a long drive back to the city. There was no way you could endure it if he started up now.

You gave a stern look before you stated, “Whatever you’re thinking, keep it to yourself.”

Timmons threw his hands up in mock surrender. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“Uh-huh,” you said dubiously. Timmons smiled smugly as you both climbed into the town car.

Chapter Five | Chapter 6 (part 2)

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[randomposterofstuff]

Soldiers by Choice - Chapter VI

Author's Note: So, real life has been stressing me out immensely. Lol. And I really wanted to post this chapter as soon as I could, so please forgive me for any mistakes and any other problems. Haha. In any case, I hope that you all like it!

Also available on Archive of Our Own. Check my tumblr page to click on the ‘Archive of Our Own’ tab!

Tumblr Chapters List can be found here.

CHAPTER 6: Reasons and Apologies

Summary: Mikasa and Levi encounter troublesome Military Police officers while doing a supply run. Meanwhile, at the Cadet Corps headquarters, Eren Yeager and Jean Kirstein have another confrontation.

Year 847 (5 months later)

---

“Tch. They’re out of bleach.”

Levi glares at the empty row of shelves where jars of commercial bleach usually would be. A few feet away to his left, Mikasa speaks with the shop owner.

“Mr. Gale, I don’t understand. Section Commander Hange told us that you usually have stocks of everything during this time of the month.”

The Titan-scientist and Moblit were on the supply pick-up rotation for the current month. But since they were away on another observation expedition with the Research division, the task had fallen to the two Ackermans.

Mr. Gale, an aging man in his early 50s, clasps his hands apologetically. “I’m sorry, Captain. But due to some issues with our supplier, we won’t have stocks until next month.”

The dark-haired woman sighs at the news. “I see. We will just have to make do with an alternative and the other supplies.”

After a few more words and apologetic gestures from the shop owner, she approaches her co-captain, who is still glowering at the vacant racks.

“They won’t restock until next month.”

His frown deepens. “How the hell are we supposed to properly clean without bleach?”

Mikasa cracks a small smile at his displeasure over the absence of the cleaning agent. In the back of her mind, she muses that even after three years of working together, she still finds his pseudo-obsession with cleanliness to be comical to the point of disbelief.

“We can make our own cleaning formula.” She says. “The store has the necessary ingredients, and the budget is enough to cover them.”

The tautness in his jaw relents at this. “You know how to make bleach?”

She nods. “I do. My mother created her own cleanser. The employees at our estate use it.”

His eyebrows raise in mild surprise. “I didn’t know the Azumabitos also dealt in the cleaning business.” He remarks wryly.

She shifts her eyes from side to side before taking a step closer. "It's a closely guarded family secret." She whispers mock-conspiratorially.

He smirks. “Your secret is safe with me.” He speaks in a similarly hushed tone, and she mirrors his smirk.

---

After perusing the store for the needed ingredients, the two officers help the elderly shop owner place all their purchased supplies in eight wooden crates.

“That’s everything.” Mr. Gale comments as he places the lid on the final crate. “I’ll call my boys to help you load them on your cart.”

“There’s no need for that.” Levi says, already readying himself to lift some of the boxes. “We can handle it.”

The proprietor laughs good-naturedly. "Come now, Captain Levi. I know that you’re ‘Humanity’s Strongest Soldier’ and that Captain Mikasa is the ‘Woman Worth a Hundred Soldiers”, but you can’t rea---”

He cuts himself off when the two Ackermans each lift four boxes with little effort.

Mikasa shifts the crates so that she faces the shop owner properly. "Mr. Gale, you've already received the payment from our budgetary officer, correct?"

The older man merely nods, his mouth still agape in shock at the display of inhuman strength.

“We’ll be on our way, then. Thanks, old man.” Levi states, unfazed by the reaction.

The warm afternoon sun greets them as they exit the shop. The commercial area of Trost is filled with chatter from the mass of patrons. Due to the crowded streets, they had to leave their wagon at a fairly secluded area some ways away from the store.

When they finally arrive at where they parked, the crowd has thinned considerably. The few people there are either entering or exiting the complex. The two are in the process of loading the crates onto the cart when they hear the sound of glass breaking, followed by a frightened yell to their right.

They turn their heads to the source see to see a small saloon. One of its front windows is covered by pull-down drapes, while the other one is unobscured. Through the glass of the second one, the co-captains see a middle-aged man and woman, presumably the owners, anxiously speaking to two Military Police officers.

“Whaddaya mean we have to pay?” An MP with light hair slurs loudly while gripping a long-necked bottle.

The woman, who looks to be in her early 40s, attempts to explain. “Sir, you’ve consumed more than two bottles already.” She says, wringing her hands together nervously. “And our store ---”

“Blah!” The other MP, a man with darker hair, sways as he unslings his rifle from his shoulder. Both the woman and her partner take a step back, visibly terrified. “We serve the kingdom!” He yells. “You lot should be grateful! Besides, your stuff tastes like shit!"

He unsteadily aims his rifle at a row of bottles behind the counter while his companion laughs. “You’re right, Ricky!” He shouts, smashing the bottle he was holding against the floor.

The one called Ricky guffaws. "Damn right, I'm right, George!" Slightly swaying, he disengages the safety lock. “I’ve been wanting to try this beauty out! They say this thing can shoot 15 bullets in a row after just one click!” Just as he is about to place his finger on the trigger, he is suddenly struck across the head. The impact of the attack causes him to drop his weapon.

“Ricky!” George makes to unsling his own rifle but barely has time to react before a heavy boot hits him in the stomach. He faintly registers his gun being snatched from him before he is thrown across the room and roughly crashes onto a table and some chairs. One second later, Ricky lands beside him with a loud thud.

They both groan for a moment before raising their heads and seeing the profiles of two other soldiers in the area where they had been standing before. “Hey!” George yells while unsteadily getting up. “What gives?!” He demands, face flushed with both embarrassment and alcohol. “Who are you anyway?!” He trains his glazed-over beady eyes at their assailants.

Levi narrows his eyes, not the least bit intimidated. “You were harassing innocent civilians.” He crosses his arms, leveling him with a look of disdain. "Taxpayer money is wasted on pigs like you.”

“They’re from the Survey Corps!” Ricky exclaims, pointing to the Wings of Freedom on the fronts of their jackets. “You two have got some nerve!” He glares, eyes glassy with inebriation. “Accusing us of wasting taxpayer money when you ---”

Mikasa quietly raises his rifle at him, causing him to cut himself short. Both MPs freeze at the movement.

“P—put that down and g—give it back!” Ricky demands, voice shaking.

Mikasa shifts her gaze from the anxious Military Police officers and to the firearm in her hands. She examines its long sleek frame and swipes her thumb over the grip.

“It saddens me to see that my father’s guns were used to frighten defenseless civilians.” She comments out loud, her tone a cross between pensive and disappointed.

George’s brows scrunch up in confusion at her statement. “Huh?!” The two MPs look at her dumbly, trying to comprehend the meaning behinds her words.

Meanwhile, Levi picks up the second rifle from the floor, ignoring the whimpers from the two pigs. He feels the gun's weight in his hands and notes that it is light compared to other models. He then places his thumb on the butt of the rifle and runs it over the engraved encircled cursive 'A' which serves as the insignia of Lord Mikhail Ackerman's gun manufacturing company. He muses that the emblem looks similar to the Azumabito clan symbol on the inside of Mikasa’s wrist.

“If it’s any consolation,” he begins, still looking at the rifle, “I think that your father did a great job with this gun, Mikasa.” He remarks almost idly.

“Thanks, Levi.”

“Levi? Mikasa?” George repeats their names, a hint of recognition in their slurred tone. “Mikasa… Mikhail A—“. Shock settles on his features as they finally connect the dots. His eyes further widen in realization when they shift to Levi. “… Ackerman.”

“You’re Levi and Mikasa Ackerman!” George exclaims, lips trembling. At his exclamation, Ricky’s mouth drops open as sweat starts to form on his brow. The two men nervously shift their eyes between the co-captains – panic and recognition clearing away the drink-induced glazes in their eyes.

“I mean, my lord and lady!” George suddenly bows at the waist. His companion scrambles to do the same. “Our apologies! We didn’t recognize you!”

Levi’s jaw clenches at their sycophantic gesture. “Tch. Do not call us those.” He hisses. “And quit your groveling.”

They straighten themselves instantly at the vitriol in his voice. “My lord?” One of them squeaks.

Mikasa takes a sharp breath. “We’re not at the royal court.” She states, an edge to her voice. “Furthermore, we’re acting in our capacities as officers of the Survey Corps. So, if you’re going to address us, do so accordingly.”

“Yes, my la---, I mean, Captain!” The same MP yelps. “We’re sorry!”

Mikasa narrows her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “You’re clearly not genuine.” She speaks coldly. “And it appears that the likes of you get your bravado from carrying my father’s guns. Perhaps I should tell him to terminate his weapons provision contract with the Military Police.”

“Please don’t!” They both plead simultaneously, alarm in their voices. Clearly frightened of the consequences should they be the cause of the loss of the contract. “This won’t happen again!”

The disdain in her dark grey eyes indicates that she is not convinced. “I don’t believe you.” Mikasa then grips that rifle’s ammunition magazine. “So, I’m going to take these.”

Following her lead, Levi makes to do the same with the rifle in his hands. “I’ll take care of this one.”

Once he’s done, Mikasa holds out a hand, and he gives her the second rifle. She throws the weapons at the feet of the two MPs. “Take those and leave.” She commands, voice near imperious. “And don’t forget to put your payment on the counter.”

The two men do as they are told. They wordlessly take the ammo-less rifles and practically empty their wallets onto the counter before leaving the saloon with their heads bowed.

Once they were out of sight, the two Ackermans turn to the shop owners, who had been silently watching the exchange from the sidelines with bated breath.

“We’re not from the Military Police.” Levi states plainly. “But all the same, we’re sorry for the trouble they caused.”

The middle-aged man shakes himself from his daze. “Oh, please! You have nothing to apologize for!” He says, a nervous but sincere smile on his face. “In fact, my wife and I should thank you, my lord and lady!” His eyes then widen at his slip of tongue. “I’m sorry, I mean---”

Mikasa raises her hands in a calming gesture. “It’s alright.” She assures him with a smile.

The man’s tension eases, relieved at her assurance.

“Thank you so much, Captains.” His wife steps forward, wearing a bright and grateful smile. “May we offer you something to eat and drink?”

“Oh, we ---” Mikasa begins, about to politely decline.

“It’s on the house!” The husband insists. “It’s the least that we could do for you! We insist.”

Mikasa observes their smiling and amiable expressions before turning to Levi. She lifts her brows, and he gives a slight shrug before taking out his pocket watch.

“I suppose we have time before we need to get back to headquarters.” He comments.

The shop owners beam at the response. “Wonderful! I’m Tim Briles, by the way, and this is my wife, Frances." Tim introduces himself and his wife. “Please, have a seat. The menu is by the counter. Order anything you want!”

"Sure." Levi replies, and he turns towards the turned-over tables and chairs. “I’ll fix the tables and chairs. I’ll have what you’re having.”

“Noted." Mikasa states as she makes her way to the counter. She peruses the menu and, after a minute of deliberating, settles on a sandwich platter and chamomile tea. She vaguely wonders if the tea selection is meant for customers with hangovers.

After an enthusiastic Frances takes their order, she makes her way to Levi, who has just finished righting the disarray of furniture. As she approaches, her co-captain suddenly pulls out a chair and gestures for her to sit.

Mikasa looks at him questioningly, and he tilts his head towards the offered chair.

She decides to play along. “How very gentlemanly of you.” She jests, voice half-coquettish as she moves to sit.

“Only for you, my lady.” He drawls as he pushes the chair in for her.

They both snicker at the mocking references to their noble backgrounds.

“So, what are we having?” He asks as he sits from across her.

“Tea and sandwiches.” He raised a brow at ‘tea’, and she smiles. "I know; I was also surprised to see it on the menu.”

Levi hums. “In any case, it’s too early for liquor.”

A few minutes pass, and Frances approaches their table with their food and drinks. “Here are your orders. Enjoy!”

The co-captains both thank the female shop owner, and they split the sandwiches and tea between themselves.

Comfortable silence ensues as they eat their sandwiches. Levi muses that the saloon’s turkey sandwich is quite good. He takes a look at the sandwich in Mikasa’s hand and deduces from the green poking out from the bread that it’s full of vegetables.

After he finishes his food and begins stirring his tea, a random realization suddenly occurs to him.

“Something wrong?” Mikasa asks, noticing the contemplative furrow of his brow.

“No.” He replies, taking out the spoon from his cup and gripping it by the rim. “It’s just that I realized you actually used the ‘I’m going to tell my daddy’ card.”

Mikasa blinks at the remark. A beat of silence passes before she bursts into laughter.

Her shoulders slightly shake as hearty chuckles flow from her. She laughs in earnest at the absurdity and the truth of the statement.

Levi’s lips curve upwards at her open display of mirth, observing how her usually stern eyes crinkle at the corners and how genuine joy shines through her typically reserved expression.

“I’m sorry.” Mikasa says, still giggling as she adjusts her cravat around her neck. “You’re right, but it’s just so ridiculous.” She remarks, her smile wide. “Come to think of it, I’ve never used it before.” She muses out loud, her lips still twitching.

“At least you used it for a good cause.” He quips, sharing in her amusement.

She chortles at his joke. He also lets out an amused sound.

She eventually sobers down, though a small smile still remains on her lips.

But after a moment, her eyes suddenly become downcast, and her smile disappears.

Levi frowns in concern at the abrupt change in her demeanor. “What’s wrong?”

She takes a breath before directing her gaze towards the afternoon sky beyond the saloon’s window.

“Moments like this…” she speaks quietly as she raises her hand to gesture at their light-hearted conversation, “…don’t come by often.” A sad gleam then enters her eyes. “In a way, it’s… sort of unsettling.”

Levi’s lips press into a firm line at the reality of her words. Every soldier in the Survey Corps knows that every encounter with the Titans could be their very last. Danger, risk, and bloodshed are their constant companions. And the absences of the comrades lost will always be felt by those who live to join the next expedition.

The survivors know that it is their duty to honor the sacrifices of the fallen by carrying on with their mission. Yet, this knowledge hangs heavy over the heads of those who remain standing.

“I know what you mean.” He says, voice solemn. “Enjoying a moment of peace can be hard sometimes, considering the things we go through.”

They remain quiet for a while, the atmosphere suddenly tenser. Mikasa closes her eyes and sighs before speaking again.

“Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like right now if I had stayed in the Capital or joined the clan’s Elite Royal Company.” She stares intently into her cup of tea, wistfulness underlying her tone. “I would probably be promenading with the other nobles in the parks. Or patrolling the grounds at the Fritz castle. Either way, my life would be simpler and less daunting."

A flash of resolve then enters her gaze. “But I already made my choice a long time ago.” She declares with a quiet certainty in her words. “And I’ve chosen to be a soldier for the Survey Corps.”

Levi quietly observes her profile. She sits with the graceful posture of a noble lady – a result of her upbringing. But her shoulders are squared with a soldier’s discipline. She holds her teacup delicately, but her fingers are calloused from years of wielding blades. Had she chosen differently, she could have been a socialite hostess.

The passing thought then prompts a question. “Why didyou join the Survey Corps in the first place?”

Mikasa half-smiles at that. It was a question she was often asked – the daughter of a noble joining any of the military branches was unheard of. Although, she never divulged anything apart from saying that she merely wanted to.

“I could ask you the same question, Levi.” She prompts back.

For all his fame, no one has ever known of his reason for joining the Survey Corps. Not surprising, since he would always brush off anyone who asks by telling them that it’s none of their damn business.

But Levi decides that he wouldn’t mind making an exception for her. “I’ll share if you share.”

Mikasa hums as if contemplating the proposition. “Fair enough.”

A moment passes before she continues. “I joined because of my Asian heritage.”

He raises a brow in confusion. But stays silent and waits for her to elaborate.

“The Azumabitos are the last Asians in the world.” She explains. “Our clan’s records state that our ancestors’ homeland, Asia, was full of rare creatures and mysterious fauna. Unfortunately, just like every other continent, it was invaded along with the rest of humanity by the Titans.”

“My parents gave me everything I needed while growing up. But they taught me that if I wanted something, then I should work to earn it.” Mikasa pauses as her lips twist wryly. “And since I wanted to see the roots of my Asian heritage, I decided as a child that I would join the Survey Corps to help eradicate the Titans.”

“It’s silly.” She remarks, more to herself, amused at her younger self’s reason. “But it’s what prompted me to enlist.”

Her expression then becomes more pensive, and she redirects her gaze to the table between them. “But after my first expedition, I realized that there are things which are bigger than my wants. I suppose you could say that it opened my eyes. Seeing first-hand the dangers and struggles made me understand the weight of the Corps’ mission.”

She looks up at him again. “I still want to see Asia…” she admits with a bashful look. “… and if we can eradicate the Titans during my lifetime, then I’ll be to do that.”

“But even if that won’t happen, I won’t have any regrets about joining the Survey Corps.”

With that, she concludes her piece. Levi remains quiet for a moment, feeling astounded and moved at the revelation.

“I’m glad that you joined, Mikasa.” He says softly.

She smiles at his remark. “Thank you for saying that.” A tinge of levity then enters her dark orbs. “Now, I believe it’s your turn to share.”

Levi tsks, but there���s mirth in the slight quirk of his mouth. “I suppose a deal’s a deal.”

He swirls the contents of his teacup before speaking. “When I was a kid, my great grandfather would always preach about upholding the clan’s tradition of being the Crown’s ‘Sword and Shield’.” He drawls out the last two words.

“Just like you and everyone else in our clan, I was trained to be the best fighter possible – because, of course, the royal family only expects the best to protect it.” He pauses to take a drink.

“Sure, it’s natural for the royal family to have protection.” He concedes. “But our clan’s talents are being wasted. The biggest threats are out there beyond the Walls, and our clansmen use their many years of special training to deal with problems that the Military Police pigs are supposed to handle.”

Levi lifts his gaze to hers. "So, I said to myself, ‘to hell with tradition’.”

She lets out a small laugh. “Of course, you would say something like that.”

He smirks before taking another sip. “So, I decided to enlist in the Survey Corps. Thankfully, my uncle became head of the clan even before my rite of passage. And since he isn’t as uptight and prissy as my great grandfather was, he let me go without much of a fuss. I wanted to put my skills to better use. And what better way to use them than to reclaim the lands stolen by the Titans from humanity?”

“And after everything I’ve seen…” he trails off, a more somber and pensive look in his eyes as he stares at his cup, “…I’m now surer than ever that I made the right choice.”

A quiet second passes before Mikasa speaks. “That’s very noble of you.” She says, her voice earnest.

Her co-captain snorts out a harsh laugh. “If it were anyone else, I’d say that they were kissing my ass.”

Remembering the incident with the two MPs earlier, she likewise smiles in good humor; his words can’t be any truer.

“But since it’s you…” his harsh smirk morphs into a gentler smile, “… thanks.”

Her smile remains as their eyes meet again.

“You know, it’s odd…” she begins off-handedly, “We’ve known each other for years, but this is the first time we talked about something like this.”

He raises a brow. “Is it? I wasn’t aware that there was a standard timeline for sharing things.”

Another light laugh escapes her, and Mikasa wonders if Levi realizes how humorous he can be at times.

---

Chatter fills the air of the communal dining hall of the Southern Division’s Cadet Corps Headquarters – with the main source of noise and talk being the long dining table where Eren Yeager sits with his friends.

“Eren, what you did was really cool!”

“Yeah, I don’t think that anyone else here would’ve been able to do that!”

From his seat at another table at the far right of the hall, Jean Kirstein watches as several trainees crowd around Yeager and pay him compliments for his incredible feat earlier this morning.

Connie sits across the green-eyed recruit with a wide grin on his face. “Eren, you were amazing earlier!” He exclaims. “Being able to balance yourself using defective equipment was incredible!”

Beside him, Sasha nods enthusiastically as she munches on a loaf of bread. She smiles broadly after gulping down her food. "You really did well, all things considered!" She exclaims while not so discreetly trying to take Connie's bread from his plate.

The shaved-headed boy snatches her wrist before she could lift the loaf to her mouth. “Oh, come on! You haven’t even finished your own bread!” He grumbles, exasperated as Sasha strains against his grip.

Eren chuckles at the display before scratching the back of his head with a sheepish expression. Even so, his green eyes seem to glow with pride and appreciation. “Thanks, guys.”

“Congratulations on a job well done, Eren.” Christa speaks from amongst the group that congregated around the table. “Your determination paid off.”

Eren's cheeks redden slightly at her smile. "Thanks, Christa. But I can't take all of the credit. Armin here gave me pointers, and Reiner and Betholdt told me to keep calm and not to give up." He then turns to the male blonde seated next to him. "Isn't that right, buddy?"

Armin’s lips quirk upwards. “It’s true that you got help, but all the work was you.”

“Armin’s right.” Reiner’s deep voice resounds from one side of the crowd. To his left, Bertholdt silently watches the interactions with a small smile. “At the end of the day, you were the one ultimately responsible for your success.”

Jean watches as more trainees give the brunette praises for his resolve and performance. It isn’t until he feels something nudge him in the side that he turns away.

“Just talk to him already.” Marco urges with a knowing look.

Jean scoffs at the comment. “Talk to Yeager? About what?”

Marco simply gives him a half-amused and half-exasperated smile. “You know what I mean.” He then picks up his glass of water. “It’s good that you want to apologize. It’s a mature thing to do.” He says before taking a drink.

Jean grumbles something unintelligible as he observes the sky through an open window. The last rays of sunlight are starting to fade behind the darkening sky. He can see some of their Commandant's assistant officers patrolling the grounds and inspecting the outdoor training equipment to ensure they're still working properly.

As his gaze lands on the row of 3DM gear simulators, Jean recalls how he, along with nearly everyone, laughed at Eren when he failed to steady himself using 3DM gear during his first attempt. He also remembers snidely commenting that Yeager was just "all talk and no bite" and how he brushed him off when he asked for pointers to improve.

Jean then sighs before getting up and walking over to the green-eyed recruit’s table.

---

Armin and Eren were in the middle of speaking with fellow recruits when the blonde sees Jean walking up to their table.

“Uhh… Eren?” He taps his friend on the shoulder.

At the prodding, Eren turns away from Mina and Thomas, who were standing behind him. His eyes narrow at the sight of Jean standing behind the other recruits surrounding their table. “What do you want, horse face?”

The entire room goes silent as everyone turns to Jean. The man in question averts his gaze as his cheeks flush at suddenly being the center of attention.

He stays silent for a moment before speaking. “I’m not here to fight.” He then finally raises his gaze to look at Eren. The crowd parts as he moves closer to the table.

Armin notes the sudden tension in the air as his childhood best friend stares at Jean with a cautious look – he deduces that Eren is not entirely convinced that Kirstein came in peace.

Jean halts when he’s near the edge of their table, just a couple of feet from where Eren sits. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“I’ll be honest. I still think that going after Titans is stupidly dangerous.”

Eren's eyes further narrow at the remark. He rises to his feet, but Armin pulls at his arm before he can move towards Jean. "Hear him out first.” The blonde half-pleads.

Eren frowns but nonetheless sits back down. His eyes are still trained on Kirstein, who instinctively took a step back at his abrupt movement.

Jean takes another breath before continuing. “But I now get how serious you are.” He admits, voice quiet but clear. “You have real resolve, and I respect that. And I’m…” He pauses, his pride momentarily stifling his next words.

“… I’m sorry for making fun of you before.”

Some trainees gasp lightly while some simply stare – all surprised at his gesture. Armin sees that even Connie and Sasha have paused their food-related grappling to gawk at Jean. The blonde also quietly muses that the entire room probably half-expected another fight to erupt between the two boys. All eyes are now trained on Eren, who looks astounded with his eyes widened and mouth slightly agape.

Armin then lightly nudges his friend’s shoulder. “Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”

The question shakes the green-eyed trainee from his stupor. He blinks once before rising to stand – more calmly, Armin notes approvingly.

“Thanks, Jean.” The hardened look in his gaze is now gone. “I appreciate you saying that. Apology accepted.” He says with a small smile.

“And for what it’s worth…” Eren trails off as his eyes dart downwards, a hint of shame in them, “… I shouldn’t have scoffed at you for wanting to go into the Interior. After all, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be safe.”

He then looks directly at Jean again. “So, I guess I also owe you an apology.” He admits with a half-smile, hoping that it would lighten the mood.

It seems to have worked as Kirstein offers him a smile. “Glad to know that you can see things my way, Yeager.”

Eren grins more naturally at the response. “So… friends?” He asks, voice tentative as he holds out his hand.

Jean looks at the offered hand in surprise for a moment before observing the other boy’s expression. There’s a mix of uncertainty and apprehension in his countenance – possibly wary of how he would respond. But the look in Yeager’s eyes tells him that the offer of friendship is genuine.

He eventually grasps the hand offered to him. “Friends.” He says while giving it a firm shake.

There’s a smattering of applause as the crowd gives a slight cheer at the show of camaraderie. Armin especially claps heartily at the sight of the usually hot-headed Eren making peace with Jean even as he hears Connie yelp when Sasha takes advantage of the distraction to take a massive bite from the Springer boy’s loaf.

“Well, it’s nice that we’re all finally getting along.” Marco comments with a smile from the sidelines, hands still pressed together from clapping.

Jean sends a slightly annoyed look at Marco, who only continues to smile in return.

---

End Note: So, the 104th gang finally appears! Since Mikasa is a veteran in this story, I wanted to play a little with the dynamics of the 104th's relationships with one another. On this, I wanted Eren and Jean to have a friendlier relationship in this story than in canon. I hope that I was able to execute this idea (as well as all my other ideas) properly. Lol.

In any case, let me know what you think! Critiques and comments are most welcome!

[nevenabadr]

Sebastian Stan X Reader, Leather Love, Prologue

This is a prologue to Leather Love!

Note: English is not my first language.

Inspiration: this is inspired by:

· Bliss, a novel about a magical baker.

· A Dash of Magic, a novel about a magical family of bakers

Word count: 2003

Warnings: Romance, fluff, sweet words, and few explicit words

Enjoy reading and please comment with your feedback. 🖤

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Sebastian met at the Met Ball, an annual fundraising gala for the benefit of the Metropolitan, and you were their choice for creating the patisserie masterpieces for the evening.

As for Sebastian, the gala was enjoyable till the moment he was running away from the press.

Also, you were running away from the pressure of catering for your foremost important event of the season.

At the calmest corner of the hotel. You sat calming yourself down speaking to yourself, "I am seven stars rated Baker. One of the best around the world."

Little did you know that someone was taking a few steps and heading to that same calming place.

You were so close when you noticed that man lighting a cigarette "want one?"

He smiled at you.

"You know, that could kill you." You frowned.

"Better than anxiety" he scrunched his nose.

Smocking was something you tried once or twice for fun but never thought of as a tool for calming your nerves.

"I am Y/N by the way."

"Sebastian" he extended a hand to shake yours

You did not rush to tell him you know him and his works. You are a fan, but you still respect that he is already anxious.

"Can I ask, what are you so anxious about?" You calmly asked.

"Too many cameras, I am used to them, but I needed a moment for myself too."

You smirked "A fellow introvert, are not you?"

"Maybe," he giggled and kept smocking, "I did not get your name?"

"Your/F&L/Name, please to meet you, Sebastian." You smiled softly and noticed stars in his eyes.

"Are not you the owner of Bliss, the antique-styled bakery café in New York?" His voice was jammed with excitement.

It surprised you to be personally recognised by a star. It is always the brand that gets the enthusiasm, not you.

"Yes, in the flesh," you shrugged.

He was excited as a child just found his favourite lost toy "I love your patisserie. I even treat myself from Bliss each Sunday."

You were excited that he likes what you serve. "Have you tried our coffee?"

He hesitated "I am a Starbucks guy, sorry."

You laugh "even I, a Starbucks girl, just don't tell my workers." You winked.

"Well, look, I should prepare my surprise for the evening."

The cigarette was almost finished, and the conversation was not over, so as you started walking away, he called you back "Y/A, can I ask you for a favour."

You turned, "anything, Sebastian,"

"Can I take a VIP tour? That special thing, for me, please." He asked with puppy eyes.

He seems to be still nervous about going into the crowd. He is in the sport because of his new PR company. Adding, his ex-girlfriend fame and breakup impact was hard, especially the buzz all over Tumblr. He could not be around the media at that moment.

"Alright, come along, but no cameras or sharing my secrets." You seriously ordered

Indeed, that VIP tour was in a crowded kitchen. Everyone is busy creating a piece of heaven.

"There you are," a young man ran to you. His face draws worrying emotions and anger.

"Frank, what's wrong?"

"It is 30 minutes to delivery."

Frank started walking by your side, describing something that was going wrong and you pointed "we have time"

It surprised Sebastian that Frank did not even notice him. There in the kitchen, you were the star to be followed and the boss to be obeyed.

"Sebastian, I need you to put on gloves and follow my lead"

It surprised him to take orders now

"Frank, you go being the rest of the cupcakes, I am preparing the icing myself."

As Frank left, you give Sebastian an explanation "my staff got something wrong, I have 30 minutes to icing 500 cupcakes."

"This is better than expected. I would love to help." His soothing voice calmed down your anxiety.

He took off his jacket. He looked stunning in everything, as you thought to yourself.

He was laughing and motivating everyone around him "coming people there is a Gala to conquer."

You were icing the side of the cupcake by side, forgetting how exhausting it was to do all of this work in a short time, yet the joy on his face made this worthwhile.

"I don't remember having this much fun in my life," he was icing a chocolate cupcake

"Are you sure this is your first time?" You said playfully

"I don't even know how to cook," he shrugged, "maybe, you can teach me."

The icing went well, but both of you stayed talking and he ignored the time

"Oh, look at the time, I have a to attend that dinner."

He was fixing his clothes and hair, running too fast out of the kitchen. "Thank you Y/A."

You wish for him to stay longer, as he made this chore easier for you, at least mentally.

As he was rushing out "can I book you for a private lesson? A date maybe?"

"I thought you would never ask." Giving him your private card and going back to your staff.

The next morning, he woke up thinking of how alive he felt around Y/A. He juggled her card between his fingers, thinking whether or not to call her. He settled on calling her after mid-day or at lunch.

He took a shower and got prepared for his morning run. It is never too late for one.

He took his usual route of running passing by the Bliss, something made him stop and look for her. Maybe you were tired from all her work, but it is Sunday and he deserves his weekly treat.

Behind the counter there you were, beautiful as he remembers her from the night before.

"May, I have a cupcake please,"

You were busy talking and giving instructions to one of her staff members, yet a familiar voice turned her head "Why not trying the Bakery choice of the day?"

"If the baker herself agrees, then I am sold." He flirted.

"On the house, sir,"

You served him English cake with coffee at his table.

He stood up when you approached "oh God! You brought it yourself!" he tried to give her a hand and serve himself at the table.

"Anything for my favourite guest." You smiled as did not sit.

He was puzzled and clueless "Y/A, wait."

"Anything else?" You smirked at him.

"Will you go out with me tonight, please?" He used the charm of his puppy eyes again.

"I would love to." You glowed.

Later that day, he texted

Sebastian: You did not take my number! 🧁

Y/A: Sebastian, hey, thank you! 🙏🏻

Sebastian: tonight, when and where?

Y/A: Sushi, maybe???

Sebastian: I was thinking of an Italian fancy restaurant, gotta impress the girl. 🤷🏻‍♂️

Y/A: Not this one lolz. Just anything you like. Surprise me.

Sebastian: Fancy, it will be!

Y/A: next time, I am choosing.

Sebastian: there will be next time, huh? 😉

Y/A: haha, I've got to go. Sunday means work.

Sebastian: see ya tonight.

At your house, you are confused about what to wear.

"It is a fancy date with a handsome man that happens to be a star" you were worried, every ex you had was not even close to Sebastian's sweetness. You know that there is always a catch. This time, it might be you and your busy schedule.

You texted him your address. He arrived before his time with ten minutes holding flowers at your door.

He was dressed in a slim fit navy suit without a tie.

"You look beautiful," he complimented your little black dress and heels.

The dinner went well. Both if shared stories from your past, trying to make a career, and how hard the world is becoming.

"Baking is great but applying for investment is hellish," you discussed the situation with coming at the top.

"Your food should be decorated with prizes. I believe you won many."

He teased, as he knew that you were part of a reality show for bakers.

"It was a phase, now this is the real world." You exhaled gloomily.

Your phone ringing cut off your conversation. You excused him for taking this call.

You left the table, yet, arriving with a miserable 10 minutes later.

"Is everything okay?" He nervously asked.

You looked down at your food "I am sorry, Sebastian, I have to go"

You were anxious and irritated

"What's wrong?" He tried to soothe you.

"My angel investor is having a party. He needs me to prepare the cakes and cookies by myself." You were about to cry.

"Okay, you are pressures." He smirked playfully, trying to change your mood.

"He needs them tomorrow by noon." You asserted upon the last word.

"See, I was going to ask you to teach me, so why not today,"

He called for the check.

Sebastian drove you back to your bakery. It was almost empty by that time. Just two workers and you took Sebastian to the kitchen.

You prepared the ingredients on the counters. Sebastian asked if he can help with getting the blenders and mixing bowls. You pointed at a higher shelf opposite to you.

"Thank you, Sebastian," you were about to leave his car.

"Not yet, doll, we have cookies to prepare," he said as the cute dork he is.

You were guiding him to which thing is to add to the blender first and he was a curious student.

"Exactly, why are you hand blending that?" Pointing at the chocolate mixture in front of you.

"Because we make these with a dash of magic and bliss," you spook magically and seriously.

He paused for a moment "and I am not magic"

You raised an eyebrow, "you are my apprentice, yet, hand blend the cookies."

You came by his side, your chest at his back, and guided his arm to hand to blend the cookies.

He was blazing with fire and excitement. Ultimately, he felt at peace.

“An excellent exercise to those guns.” He teased you.

"Not as a baker's," you guided his free hand to something, "now take a pinch of magic... chocolate chips and add them."

Both of you rounded up and finished everything was in the oven. You sat on the floor drinking wine and chatting further, till the alarm of the oven called it done.

"My cookies" Sebastian pulled them out of the over, "taste what the master baked."

"Apprentice," you asserted as you pulled your cakes out of the other oven.

You let everything rest. It was almost the morning.

"They will come I pick them at 9 am, no time for home." You yawned

"Can I drive you?" He yawned too, and his eyes were sleepy.

"Cookie, you looked exhausted." It was the first time to call him so, he was surprised and delighted.

"I have a coach in my office."

Both of you laid tired and exhausted from the long day. Spontaneously he put a kiss on your forehead, you whispered at his lips "I have a better one" you took his lips on your own and shared the sweetest romantic first kiss.

"Sweet dreams, apprentice Cookie." You laid to sleep in his arms.

"Sweet dreams Y/A." He smiled against your lips and laid a kiss goodnight on them.

Yet, Sebastian had to make the last thing before he sleeps.

Guys, I made cookies

That was his message to the group chat with his best friends.

Chris: cookies, is that's a new term for sex?

Anthony: WTH @Cheis. If Sebastian mentions cookies, then he really made cookies.

Sebastian: I baked cookies

Christ: good for you, pal.

Anthony: you are waking me up at 6 in the morning for cookies.

Sebastian: and a kiss.

Anthony: my man, you should have gone for the pussy 💪🏻

Chris: language!

Sebastian: Good night oldie issues and smarty pants. 🤣🤣🤣

Sebastian looked at your peaceful face, laid another kiss on your forehead, then departed into a deep sleep.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tag list:

@shafverani

@imsebastiansta-n

@brokenwitty

@221bshrlocked (awaiting your feedback)

@sinner-as-saint

@zemosimp05

@buckys-fairy

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 286: VESTIGE ANTICS ARE A GO

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “what’s the record for most consecutive bone breaks within the span of a single minute” and, without waiting for an answer, proceeded to unleash roughly 17 Smashes onto Tomura. Kacchan was all “THAT DOES IT, I’M TAKING THE REINS OF THIS SHITSHOW” and carried Endeavor and Shouto up to where the action was so Endeavor could hit Tomura with a Prominence Burn. AFO was all “Tomura would you rather burn to death or let me take over your body” and Tomura was all “...” and so AFO TOOK OVER and was all “STABBITY STABBITY” and used his Stabbing Quirk to do some Good Old Fashioned STABBIN’. First he stabbed Endeavor, and then he was all “hee and now I’m gonna stab Deku”, but Kacchan was all “SIR THAT’S MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT RIVAL” and so he rushed on in AND GOT HIMSELF STABBED INSTEAD. And so basically THIS PAST WHOLE WEEK HAS BEEN A RIDE, LET ME TELL YOU.

Today on BnHA: Kacchan is all “sup Deku lemme just downplay how I totally took this fatal blow for you just now” before he dramatically passes out and is caught by Todoroki “BTDUBS I CAN FLY NOW” Shouto, who is also carrying his dad because the kids really are just doing it all, here. AllForRaki Tomura For One is all “HAHA BAKUGOU IS PRETTY DUMB”, at which point Deku just LOSES IT ENTIRELY and ASCENDS INTO A NEW PLANE OF FURY LIKE A LITTLE GREEN RAGE BUDDHA. But then like two seconds later Tomura is all “ANYWAY, SO” and FUCKING TOUCHES DEKU’S FACE, CAUSING THE TWO OF THEM TO ASTROPROJECT INTO THE FREAKY OFA/AFO MINDSCAPE BECAUSE THIS CHAPTER IS BANANAS. Vestige!AFO is all “reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated but aren’t you glad I saved your life though, Tomura”, while Tomura is all “!!” because he’s hopefully starting to get A Clue, and meanwhile Deku just stands there watching all “what the fuck.” The chapter ends with SHIMURA MCFUCKING NANA showing up all, “HI, I HEARD SOME BITCHES WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC, AND THEY DIDN’T INVITE ME.” Go on, Nana. Give ‘em hell.

you guys. I’m not normally one to take pleasure in another human being’s misfortune. BUT THAT SAID, there are exceptions to every rule, and so let’s just say certain events have transpired early this morning which have PUT ME IN A VERY, LET’S JUST SAY, NOT-TERRIBLE MOOD which this chapter will hopefully improve upon!!

oh my god Deku’s one non-fucked-up eye that he still has control over is SO WIDE YOU GUYS

hmm I know I shouldn’t be all (゜▽゜) while the two of them are all (； ▼ Д ▼) (⁰ Д゜;) ... and yet here we are. btw I’m worried tumblr’s formatting will ruin those two emojis which I worked so hard to get just right so I’m gonna repost them on another line here just in case

(； ▼ Д ▼) (⁰ Д゜;) that’s them. Kacchan and Deku. my boys 

HERE COMES THE CHEESY “JUST GOT STABBED BETTER PLAY IT OFF ALL COOL!!!” ONE LINER OH MY GOD

(ETA: really love how my son, with what for all he knows could be his dying breaths, decides that the absolute most important thing is to preserve his selfish asshole facade so as not to fuck up his status quo with his rival. “LOOKEE HERE I GOT MYSELF ALL STABBED AND SHIT FOR YOU, BUT I TOTALLY JUST DID IT BECAUSE I WAS TIRED OF YOU GETTING ALL THE COOL HERO MOMENTS” yeah, that’s right! SELFLESS MOTIVATIONS, WHAT ARE THOSE sob.

also tbh I’m glad they didn’t delve any further into their feelings right here and now because this really isn’t the place or time for it sadly. WE WILL JUST PUT THOSE ON HOLD UNTIL AFTER THE ARC ENDS, when they are all recovering from their various wounds and traumas and have time to catch up and have some long-overdue heart-to-hearts. it deserves its own chapter or two or three. maybe time to head back to Ground Beta once they’re healthy? “healthy” perhaps being a relative term given their current condition fjsdjkf.)

by the way it looks from here like only the ones through his torso and shoulder actually hit, so that’s something at least. WE’VE LOST ENOUGH LEGS TODAY. I need to conserve my remaining puns

MEANWHILE TOMURA IS HAVING A CRISIS

ARE YOU MAD AT YOUR EVIL DAD TOMURA. HE JUST WON’T TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER WILL HE, THAT GUY

anyway so it looks like Kacchan might have caught a break here because AFO/Tomura is pulling the stabby quirk activation tendril things back out! rip, “Kacchan vs. Deku part 3″ theories

p.s. I got ALL CAUGHT UP IN THE DRAMA and thus glossed over the chapter title which is “one among us”! hmmm this is definitely AFO/OFA related, calling it now. ooh lord I am excited

NOW MY SON IS DRAMATICALLY FALLING

THE BLOOD FROM THE MOUTH OOF NOT GOOD AHHHH. DEKU’S FACE AHHHH. HIS BODY JUST WENT TOTALLY LIMP DID HE PASS OUT AHHHH. SOMEONE CATCH HIM!!

BY HIS FOOT, SHOUTO?!

well NOT EXACTLY THE MOST GRACEFUL THING I’VE EVER SEEN, but we’ll allow it because HOLY SHIT BOY. ARE YOU ALREADY CARRYING YOUR DAD ON TOP OF THAT?? HORIKOSHI PLEASE CONFIRM, IS TODOROKI MOTHERFUCKING SHOUTO FUCKING FLYING AROUND UNBALANCED AF ON HIS ONE FLAMEY LEG, CARRYING HIS 500 LB POP AND NOW HIS FLOPPY PASSED OUT BEST FRIEND AS WELL?!? HOLY SHIT TODO?!?!

LADIES AND GENTLEFRIENDS OF THE VILLAIN STANDOM, FEAR NOT, TOMURA’S HAIR IS THE FIRST THING THAT GREW BACK LOL

even before his eyeballs kfldkakjk. which, btw, how does he even know what’s going on right now? “this fight has shed a lot of useless blood” sdkmkjl okay well (1) WHOSE FAULT WAS THAT, AGAIN??, (2) SERIOUSLY THOUGH, HOW DOES HE EVEN KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING. DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO YOU STABBED?? ARE YOU EFFECTIVELY BLIND FOR THE NEXT FEW SECONDS HERE, WHAT’S GOING ON, and lastly (3) I seriously can’t tell if this is AFO or Tomura talking right now. or are they going back and forth?? help this is so confusing

HEY

THE DISRESPECT. I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW KACCHAN ANGST IS NEVER USELESS!!

AND NOW HE’S BACK TO THE STABBING JFKJLKJLF I AM NOT TOO HAPPY WITH YOU RIGHT NOW MISTER

okay and now we’re cutting to some quick panels of the unconscious Aizawa, Gran, and Ryuukyuu, along with the “still conscious but in a very real sense might as well not be counted” Manual who is really having a day, that poor guy

anyway but then there’s also some dialogue boxes being all “if you act out of rage your power will respond accordingly, the most important part is to keep your head clear.” which I’m like 90% sure is Deku/OFA related, but honestly NOTHING ABOUT THIS CHAPTER IS CLEAR SO FAR YOU GUYS. except for the Shouto-is-a-badass part anyway

HMM YEP I’M GONNA GO WITH DEKU-RELATED

it must be a callback to some line I’m forgetting. maybe Lariat explaining Blackwhip to him that one time. probably should have been in italics if it was a flashback quote, but hey. anyways the point is Deku is absolutely, 100% following this advice to the letter (/s)

(ETA: yep I’m almost positive this is the same quote from chapter 213. “listen, when you use this power out of anger, it’ll really start working for you. what really matters is controlling your heart.” which is still one of the weirdest pieces of advice in the entire series, but basically I think he was just trying to tell him it’s okay to get mad, so long as it’s calmly mad. like, controlled fury, as opposed to this white-hot berserker nonsense he’s been running on as of late. anyways I do still love me some shounen rage all the same but Lariat has a point.)

...

it took me a minute to realize THOSE WERE DEKU’S EYES. holy --

AND ANOTHER MINUTE TO REALIZE THAT DEKU FUCKING GRABBED THE ACTIVATION TENDRIL WITH HIS BUSTED UP OFA HANDS AND BIT INTO IT WITH HIS RABID OFA JAWS AND SNAPPED THAT SHIT LIKE A FUCKING KITKAT KLJLKSJDLKJFLK WOOOOOOOO I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING BUT GODDAMN. POWER MOVE

(ETA: this is a two-page spread omg. I didn’t even realize at first. this scan ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT DO THIS BADASS PAGE ANY KIND OF JUSTICE but I can’t wait to see the real deal on Sunday holy shit.)

LMAO

DEKU RAGED SO HARD HE TURNED INTO AN ANGRY GHOST SONIC THE HEDGEHOG FKLSKG

(ETA: he actually looks a bit like the Vestiges/Kurogiri tbh.)

meanwhile Tomura basically has the exact same face I would have had in his position. yeah for real man. I don’t even know

p.s. WHEN will people learn to STOP INSULTING KACCHAN IN DEKU’S PRESENCE. WHEN, I ASK!!

WHAT IN THE CINNAMON TOAST FUCK

if this was a physical page I was holding I would have FLUNG THAT SHIT AWAY LIKE THERE WAS A SPIDER CRAWLING ON IT. WHAT THE FUCK

HOT DAMN. well uh. so that’s SUPER DISTURBING, what a lovely panel of Tomura’s melted face slowly growing back while his ears lag behind, and meanwhile that little scar that had been growing and growing and which at one point certain people (ME) thought might turn him into a BEAUTIFUL BUTTERLY instead RIPS HIS FACE IN HALF to reveal the KINDER EGG AFO SURPRISE UNDERNEATH AHHHHH TAKE IT BACK

THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T LET MAD SCIENTISTS PERFORM EXPERIMENTS ON YOU, KIDS. PSA. JUST SAY NO

-- NO!!!

HORIKOSHI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

fuck

oh my god. I almost would have rather cut away right after the Kacchan incident than freaking cut away NOW of all times, jesus. THAT’S JUST A BITCH MOVE, IS WHAT THAT IS. if we don’t cut back within the next three pages I SWEAR TO GOD

anyway so GUESS WHAT GIGANTOMACHIA’S DOING YOU GUYS. if you guessed “the exact same thing he was doing last time we saw him” then you are absolutely right, because it was actually PRETTY EASY TO GUESS

anyway but he says he detects “master’s scent”, except that there’s apparently two of them. interesting! one in Tartarus and one in Jakku, right? lol Horikoshi has burned me so many times already with his excruciatingly slow reveal of this that I’m not gonna hold my breath just yet, but I’ll get the hype train warmed up JUST IN CASE

okay so meanwhile in downtown Jakku, the heroes are handing off the civilians over to the police and rescue forces while they prepare to engage with “the villain”, by which I assume they mean Gigantomachia. does this mean Iida and Ochako are gonna fight Machia you guys omg

OOH!!!

“PLEASE INFORM THEM ON FOOT” well I know a certain SPEEDY BOI who would be PERFECT for that job oh my. make haste, Tenyar FastmLeggy

WAIT WHICH WAY ARE THEY HEADING

ARE THEY HEADING TOWARDS MACHIA OR TOWARDS DEKU AND AFO

so rather than answering my VERY PERTINENT question, Ochako is instead spending an entire page thinking about how their complete clusterfuck of a life keeps getting exponentially worse all the time! well but she’s not wrong though

NOW SHE’S ALL “GUYS...!” and, rather than explaining ANYTHING AT ALL, Horikoshi is again cutting back to THIS, OMG AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: good thing Kacchan wasn’t awake to see his dramatic “I’ll just get myself impaled for Deku’s sake” plan result in this outcome ALL OF TWENTY SECONDS LATER smdh.)

I ACTUALLY PREFER MY DEKUS NON-CRUMBLED, THANKS. ALSO JUST ON A SIDE NOTE, POOR SHOUTO THOUGH. THE LAST NINETY SECONDS OR SO HAVE BEEN ENOUGH NIGHTMARE FUEL FOR A LIFETIME HAVEN’T THEY

so now he’s all “MIDORIYA!!!” because OF COURSE HE IS. his best friend just got impaled, and his dad too, and now he fully expects to see his other best friend crumble to dust right before his eyes holy shit. T R A U M A ™

-- !!!

somehow in the excitement of the moment I forgot his actual goal for a sec lol. meaning I instantaneously switched from HORRIFIED to GRINNING LIKE A MANIAC :D :D :D come on OFA time to show him what’s what

AND NOW WE’RE SWITCHING OVER TO EVERYONE’S FAVORITE TRIPPY DREAM LANDSCAPE FOR ADDITIONAL DRAMA, WELL OKAY

I’M ON BOARD WITH THIS, WHATEVER. also it’s becoming increasingly apparent that Deku is in fact nekkid underneath that mystical cloud bs, so let’s hope one of his remaining yet-to-be-unlocked quirks is a pants-conjuring quirk lulz

“this place...” yeah we all fucking know what this place is son, let’s get on with this. by my count we’ve only got four pages left so PLEASE BUDGET THEM WISELY

OH MY

holy shit. I have so many screaming thoughts about this lol but I just want to keep on reading lkjlkjlkjl okay I’ll come back later and edit them in, how’s that

OR MAYBE I’LL JUST RANT ABOUT THEM NOW GODDAMMIT

shit. okay let me just try and sum this up as quick as I can

so just in case it wasn’t already crystal clear, AFO’s soul being roommates with Tomura’s seems to be just about 100% confirmed now. good for you, All For One For All theory!! the “Kacchan loses his quirk” theory died so that you might live on in glory

AFO does seem to have almost fully taken control now. it looks like Tomura’s still fighting back, but AFO clearly has the upper hand now if their body language is any indication. Tomura on his knees with AFO calmly holding him down and ignoring his struggles... not looking too good for him at the moment

people seem to have somewhat lost sight of this in the midst of the great “heroes vs. villains Who Is Right Who Is Wrong What Are Morals” debate of 2020, but just a friendly reminder that AFO is in fact responsible for 100% of all of Tomura’s suffering from pretty much the moment he was born up till this very moment we’re now witnessing!! like, you can go ahead and blame Nana and Gran and The Complacent Apathy Of Hero Society and whatever the fuck else from here till Sunday, but All for One is the reason Kotarou was orphaned. All for One is almost certainly the reason why the seemingly quirkless Tenko suddenly just magically developed THE MOST FUCKED UP QUIRK OF ALL TIME at the worst possible moment. All for One is probably the reason why no one helped Traumatized Baby Tenko in the immediate aftermath (I can and likely will write a separate post about this in the near future). All for One is definitely the reason why no one helped Tenko at any point after that. All for One is the reason why Tenko grew up all fucked in the head (“HERE’S YOUR DEAD FAMILY’S HANDS, MERRY CHRISTMAS”), and the reason why he grew up blaming Heroes and Society rather than the sole person who was actually responsible who was literally standing right in front of him the entire time. and lastly, All for One is the reason why Tomura has now been manipulated into unknowingly sacrificing his own body and possibly even his mind. so THANKS A LOT FOR THAT. more like jerk for one amiright

basically what I’m trying to say is that Deku and Tomura are not actually enemies here, and they never have been. the two of them have a common enemy, and I’m convinced Tomura’s story is about him eventually coming to realize this. and this looks to be the first step towards that, for two reasons. one, because AFO is finally starting to out himself to Tomura as the rat bastard he has always been. and two, because Deku is catching a glimpse of this now for the very first time. up until now he didn’t have a damn clue lol. but this is now something for him to file away in the back of his mind, and perhaps follow up on at a later date, once all of this craziness finally subsides and he has some time to process

anyway, so that’s basically it! tl;dr AFO is the final villain and unless I’m very much mistaken, this scene is going to finally start to set that up. let’s read on!

OMG

NANA?!?

lKDSJFLKSHGLISHDOGIHOLRKL

NOOOOOO I can’t believe it fucking ended there I can’t fucking believe it, fuck everything

smdh. what a place to end it. didn’t confirm a damn thing. not even whose mental landscape all of this is actually taking place in! like, don’t mind me though Horikoshi, it’s not like THE FATE OF THE WORLD HINGES ON THIS QUESTION OR ANYTHING except oh wait it really kind of does. kljkj

but seriously. because if it’s Deku’s mind, it means that Tomura’s attempt to take his quirk wasn’t successful. but if it’s Tomura’s mind, though... well... hhhhhhkhfff

or it could be both, I guess. more of that “AFO and OFA are the same quirk and thus linked” goodness. oh man. anyways stay tuned for next week when Nana presumably helps Deku out with the rest of that black fog and also hopefully finds him some pants. or maybe Nana can just go fight AFO herself. a little payback for everything he’s done to her protege and to her grandson. either way I CAN’T WAIT omg. VESTIGE ANTICS ARE A GO

[honeydvew]

what's the biggest life decision (you feel comfortable saying) that you've ever made? do you ever think about what would've happened if you hadn't made a certain choice/how it would've affected your life?

canofworms0 downloading tumblr. i know that sounds stupid but honestly its real. im not allowed to have anything else in regards to social media. not instagram, not twitter, not snapchat, not tik tok, nothing. my mother knows i have tumblr so i dont know why she doesnt make me delete it (but it might have to do with the fact she thinks its like deviant art or smth) but im so glad she doesnt. as social-media-addicted-teenager as this sounds without tumblr my life would fucking suk right now. i wouldnt have the things i do and i wouldnt be as happy. and i can give you examples.

lets go in order of events shall we :)

1. i downloaded tumblr some time last year (around may i think) and i immediately found a blog i liked! they were a 13yo like me they shared some of my interests and they seemed really cool! so i followed them. i dont know this blogs current @ but im so lucky i ever found them. a month or so later they posted about a server! it was a community server that they and some friends were in. i joined. thats where i met @starry-baby-katie and @gayishgothamite. and i love those dorks (affectionate)! we might not talk very offten but i think of them as people who are SO important to me. i love them with my whole soul and i dont know if my life would be as bright without them.

2. around 11/5 of last year i was scrolling through tumblr like usual. i saw an add for a server. at that point i was in maybe three servers on discord and didnt have many friends so i thought you know why not! its a mental health server and i wasnt in the best place maybe could benefit from it a bit. i joined and there were maybe 14 members including the mods. we didnt really think the server would go much of anywhere for a while and i honestly didnt interact much for a while but you know what. now that server is such a huge part of my life i dont think i would be here without it. i mean i love every last person there so much. literally all of them. @the-final-braincell bun bun is honestly one of the best people ive ever met. they’re funny and joyful and just the best to be around. talking to them always cheers me up and she always manages to make me laugh. were on the mod team together and she is such an important part of the team that we wouldnt run as smoothly as we do without her. i love them so so much and if i hadnt gotten tumblr? would never have met them. then theres @sir-tigerr. tiger. just. tiger. hes so amazing and i honestly would die for him. i love him so much and just talking to him can make my day. i wouldnt be as happy and the sever wouldnt be as fun without him. and @reallyradrat server owner :) sammy im so grateful for sammys existence just.. overall. they made the sever. they wrote the add post. and they’re such a good friend. i cant imagine not having them in my life they’ve made such a difference. so just... thank you <3 and @tiredconfusedandgay!! cub!! i love them!! theyre such a joy to be around and them being in the server is such a lucky thing! it wouldnt be as fun and bright of a place without them and they bring so much every time and i love seeing them in chat everyday. and with leo comes @canofworms0 baby child. anni is so amazing. just overall. so happy and funny and just an amazing person to be around and im so happy to have them in the server. @lentil-darling !!! kittycat!!! i love them!! they're so amazing and have helped me through things on more than one occasion and I'm so grateful for that and for them. they're such a good friend and i always have such a good time whenever we vc! its honestly something i look forward to! and speaking of VCs @gayest-unicorn is amazing. VCing with them is so fun and i hope we can do it more often. and on top of that just messaging them is great! and they're puns (ouns ;)/ij)? FANTASTIC! i hate puns by most means but whenever they crack a joke it makes my day 4000 times better. he's just amazing and i think he deserves the world. cant say enough praise to him :) so i low key have to speedrun this bc im running out of time to type this but all of these people also deserve the world and i wouldnt know them if it wasnt for tumblr @smoll-lightning-bug  @totally-tater-tot @savemycrustysoul @a-broken-laptop @nantuckets-weaver @undead-mutt  @hufflepuff-pide-honey-badger @human331279 and just so so many more whos @s i didnt get or couldnt find. i am so grateful to have in my life because of this server and that post. that post literally changed my life forever and i cant imagine my life without it and without these people

3. a few months went by and i made some mutuals and friends and whatnot. my at the time friend irl then made an account. i was really excited! why wouldnt i be! friend made account! awesome! but another thing about that? i had a crush on them.. and they could now see my account. but fuck it it was a great trade off. we spent a lot of time sending each other asks and messaging while in quarantine and it was just great. then i saw an ask game and i rebloged it. i realized this ask game said “♻ are we a qpp or what?” as one of the asks. now im a coward and i could NEVER have done this outside tumblr in anyway but i took the chance. i sent them the post and said “you should rb this! you have followers that would interact im sure” and so.. they did. i sent the ask and they said yes :) five months later and we’re still dating. whos this amazing person? that my friend would be @mossofthecosmos the most amazing person ive ever met. theyre the light of my life and if it werent for tumblr i would still be a blushy, semi-verbal, embarrassed, mess around them. and we wouldnt be dating. i cant even imagine what that would be like. i love them so much and they make every day wroth living for me and if it werent for tumblr, i wouldnt have that. 

4. and ive made friends. so many of them. and i love them all so much! i dont talk to a few anymore but for the while we did they made my days and made me so happy. without tumblr i wouldnt have met @mimekyo or @books-andbiscuits who are both people that have made my life a brighter place! 

okay so i cried writing this and i cried HARD

bottom line nonie? this question is so loaded it took me three hours to write an answer and a stupid amount of words that no one will read all the way through

i cant put it into words but this website is one of the best things that ever happened to me and i cant imagine life without it 

[twoidiotwriters1]

Iron 3 (Peter Parker x F!Oc)

Words: 1,756

Masterlist

Chapter 2  / Chapter 4

Tony Stark's trip to showcase the new Jericho missile is a success with the military, but when soldiers take him back, they’re intercepted and the billionaire is kidnapped.

Both Lily and Pepper find out by watching television. The call from Colonel James Rhodes confirms their fears. Although the information isn’t much, the important thing is that they’re doing everything to find him.

Pepper Potts concentrates on everything she has to do for the company without her boss. Working for Tony for so many years has formed a special connection, even if it is not the conventional one. Sometimes thoughts of possible horrible scenarios come to her mind, but she pushes them away.

Something she can be thankful for is the company of little Lily, who also can't help but worry about the man. He may not have been kind, but no one deserves to be tortured.

The tension remains for three long months, the wait for news from Tony along with the paternity results in the envelope which has not been opened. Nobody knows what to do in a situation like this.

Rhodes keeps searching for his best friend with the help of the army. Pepper and Happy take care of the little girl. The relationship between Tony and Lily's small circle has been strengthened in all this time, even Rhodey receives some calls from her asking if he’s okay and if he has found Tony. Regardless of the test results, they would protect Lily.

At the end of the three months, the new news give everyone a great respite. Tony Stark is alive and returns home.

Although Lily wants to meet Tony along with Pepper and Happy, they won't let her. Surely there would be a lot of reporters and they’d ask a lot of questions if they see the girl.

For those cases, Pepper had already arranged a babysitter. A difficult task, but she managed to find a twenty year old girl, she has no idea who the girl is, nor who hired her. The contact was a Stark Industries worker. With that problem solved, they both wait in Pepper's apartment.

Jessica the babysitter isn't so bad, Lily thinks. The only bad thing is that she spends a lot of time on her phone.

Lily searches all the channels for any news about Tony and finds one where they’re broadcasting a press conference with him eating a hamburger.

"That man must be crazy," Jessica says from the couch.

"Why?"

“He just said that he will no longer make weapons. His company produces the most. He’ll run out of money,” She explains.

Lily frowns.

Why would Tony stop producing what makes so much money?

***

"Did you think I wasn't going to find out about the girl, Tony?"

“Obie…”

Obadiah Stane raises his hand to interrupt him.

"It hurts me that you don't trust me.”

Tony sighs.

"I didn't have much time to explain everything to you and after my obligatory vacation, I couldn't do it.”

"Is she yours or not?"

“I don't know, I haven't seen the results. But, I don't think you called me for this,” Tony tries to deflect that topic as soon as possible. He can't handle this now.

They walk through Stark Industries until they reach the room where the Arc Reactor is. They argue about the actions of the company and how it affects Tony's decision. He tries to show Stane another form of energy, but in the end he fails to do much.

Happy waits for him in the limousine to take him back to the house. Tony gets in the car.

"Sir, Lily asked me to give you this," says Happy, handing him a folded paper. "She's already at your house," He informs and starts the car.

Tony unfolds the paper, finding a drawing made with colored crayons. A big house, the sea behind and three people standing in front. The names Happy, Rhodey, and Pepper are written under each person in crooked letters. The man can't help but smile, but what he’s really surprised about is seeing the fourth person in the air with outstretched arms. It's him with a big smile and the words 'I'm alive' next to him. He doesn’t know whether to feel fear at those words or simply laugh at the idea.

The truth is that during his experience in Afghanistan, he did think about her. How his life would be if the test was positive. If he’d manage to get out of that situation and return to have a family. Images from his childhood, everything he lived with his parents came to his mind.

Howard Stark was not the best father in the world. Tony doesn't remember loving or encouraging words from him, no matter how hard he tries. He discussed this with his assistant and his friend Yinsen, who was very helpful in giving real advice, but even so, he still doesn't believe that he’s capable of raising a girl. He doesn't have a clue how to do it.

“Sir," Happy interrupts his thoughts. “We’re home.”

***

"You're good?”

“Yes."

"You don't look good.”

"Well, I am," Tony answers, arranging some things in his workshop.

"Did you like my drawing?"

"It could be better.”

Lily frowns. It’s not the answer she expected. Maybe that means he wants more drawings, to see how much I can improve, she thinks.

“Okay.”

Tony takes off his shirt and leans back on a table. He connects several cables to his body. Lily looks at him curiously and notices the circle in the center of his chest.

"What is that?”

"You wouldn’t understand.”

"Doesn't it hurt?"

“No."

"How does it work?"

“You wouldn’t understand-"

“Try me,” She cuts him off. She’s sick of that answer. Tony sighs.

"This little wheel of light,” He touches it. “It's what keeps me alive, it works so that the shrapnel doesn’t reach my heart.”

"What is shrapnel?"

"Fragments of a missile that tried to kill me.”

She nods.

"And what are you going to do now?"

“Update it. Jarvis, call Miss Potts.”

"Can I ask another question?"

"You already did.”

"I'll ask another question," She informs. Tony brings his lips together to avoid a smile.

“Okay."

“Your dad was also an inventor. Did he answer all your questions?"

Tony frowns. He could never ask so many questions to his father. Howard kept him as far away as possible, but he had other teachers or he did research himself.

Pepper's arrival interrupts them. Her steps are nervous, she thought that finally her boss would want to know the result of the paternity test, but seeing that he needs her for something else, she leaves the envelope on a table.

The man explains what she has to do to replace the reactor in his heart with a better one. Lily looks amused as Pepper panics and Tony tries to relax her, but it only upsets her further.

"It's like the game ‘operating'."

"What is that?" asks Pepper scared.

"I know what it is, can I try it?"

"No!" The two adults answer. She makes a face.

When the machines sound faster on alert, Lily freaks out and looks around for something she can help out with, but she doesn't know what all of Tony's toys work for. But Pepper manages to solve it in time and everything ends.

“You're better?" She asks approaching again.

“Yes, Kid. Back off,” He answers, pulling her away a bit.

Pepper wipes her hands. Tony explains what she has to do with the old reactor, she nods, but after she clears her throat.

"We have a pending issue,” Tony turns to see them. Pepper points to the girl.

“Right," He sighs. "Just tell me if she's mine or not.”

"Don't you want to see the papers?"

Tony sits on a bench and looks at Lily.

“No."

Pepper opens the envelope carefully. Reads every detail and sighs in relief. She smiles and looks up at her boss.

“Lily's your daughter, sir.”

Tony doesn't take his eyes off the girl.

“Fine."

Pepper notices the tension between them.

"Just fine?"

"Yes, that's it,” Now he stares at the redhead. "Thank you, Miss Potts.”

The redhead nods unsure and leaves the workshop.

Tony makes a face and returns to the girl.

"You got scared?" He raises an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“What did you think?"

"I don't want to lose my dad so soon,” She cocks her head. "I just found him.”

"I should take you to an orphanage.”

“You'll do it?"

“You’d be better with someone else.”

"But I don't want to be an orphan.”

“Nobody wants to be. I am.”

"Is that why you're always sad?"

He opens his mouth thinking of an attack, but he decides to avoid it.

“This is a bad idea. Being my daughter, I don't recommend it.”

“Well, not that I have a choice. My mom is no longer at home and…” She sighs. "I don't think she wants me back.”

Tony puts his hands to his face and groans.

“Fine," He gets up and looks around. "I have other things to do. Pepper will handle the paperwork."

“Can I help?"

Tony walks to a desk and touches the surface. Holograms of plans and folders are projected in front of him. Lily approaches the desk, Tony looks at her from the corner of his eye, maybe he can admit that it is nice to have someone who’s easily impressed.

He and Jarvis talk about a secret project, outside of any Stark Industries business.

"I don't want this to fall into the wrong hands.”

"What about mine?" Lily asks. She raises both hands showing him her palms.

He sighs.

“They're still wrong, but,” He cocks his head. “I guess you're a Stark now. That's enough,” He crouches down to her level. "You can’t tell anyone about this.”

"Not even Happy?"

“I'll take care of Pepper, Happy and Rhodes. This shouldn't get out of here unless I say so. Okay?" He offers his hand.

“Deal," They shake hands. “Can I help?"

"Only if you follow my rules.”

"Which are?"

“Don't get in the way. Do exactly what I tell you and don't ask so many questions.”

She frowns at the last rule.

"I can't help it, how can I help you if I don't know what to do?"

He rolls his eyes.

"Fine, we’ll have a limit of questions.”

“Fine," She answers in a deep voice, imitating his. She smiles looking at him, but she stops when he doesn't.

"This will be more complicated than I thought.”

Taglist

If your username is crossed out it’s because Tumblr didn’t let me tag you, sorry. If you want to be removed from the taglist, you can tell us, we also make mistakes, lol

@stardusthigh​   @sarcasticallywitty15​​ @silenthappyplace​​ @yourbonesareinmybody​​  @aylauwuuniverse @tyb1​​ @skittles-skittles​​ @hufflepuffzutara​​   @poetryislife0715

[lokismusings]

Russell T Davies on straight actors and gay characters.

I decided to put this here because I post a lot of Hilson stuff. As an actor, this article hit a nerve. However, as a defender of free speech, Davies is allowed to have his opinion without me thinking of him as insensitive. Just like I am allowed to have my own opinion and argument, and ask questions without being labeled “homophobic, intolerant” etc. (that would just make me laugh because have you SEEN my blog? Anyway, I’ve seen a few other websites covering this article. I am also very skeptical of everything I read, including the sources, and I try not to blindly believe everything. That being said, I felt like posting this to get other opinions and ask honest question to help my understanding. If this has already been covered on Tumblr, please feel free to send me the conversations! Some background on me: I graduated with a BA in Theatre and have worked both on and off the stage since I was twelve years old. I have directed plays and an audio play. Given my experience and dedication to my craft, I think my opinion is worth something.

Also, for the sake of this argument, I am leaving trans-actors out because that’s a whole different post. Here is the article:

https://news.sky.com/story/russell-t-davies-straight-actors-should-not-play-gay-characters-12185652

Okay, so first things first, let’s talk about this: “Speaking to the Radio Times, Davies compared a straight actor playing a gay character to black face.” Something that irks me is when one person tries to speak for a whole community and doesn’t reference people from said community who might disagree: whether it’s the LGBTQ+ community, a religious community, medical community, etc. The list goes on. Here, Davies is speaking on behalf of, or speaking for, both the LGBTQ+ community and the black community, is he not? I am genuinely asking because I would like to be more educated on this kind of speech. 

Then Davies says, "I'm not being woke about this... but I feel strongly that if I cast someone in a story, I am casting them to act as a lover, or an enemy, or someone on drugs or a criminal or a saint... they are NOT there to 'act gay' because 'acting gay' is a bunch of codes for a performance.” Does that not discredit his whole statement? If any actor does a caricature version of anything and doesn’t take it seriously or really works to get into the role and the mindset of a character, they’re not a good actor. At least, they’re not an actor that I’d want to hire. Second, by the logic that a straight person shouldn’t play a gay character, should someone without a criminal record not be able to play a criminal character? Before you go off and say “it’s about identity and sexuality, and playing a criminal is about the choice to break the law” or other arguments, I hear you. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the experience. How can an actor who has never committed a crime play a criminal character authentically? They do their research: reading, interviewing, etc. I’m not saying that an actor with a few minor marks on his record shouldn’t be considered for the same role. I’m saying that in an audition setting, if both of these actors were auditing for the role and the non-criminal-record actor just happened to do a better job and fit what the director and/or writer wanted, is that a mark against the criminal-record-actor? Maybe personally because we don’t know what the director is thinking. But chances are, it’s not a mark against the other actor. The other one just happened to have a better audition. Or, a major factor when considering casting, said actor was easy to work with--I’ve seen a lot of talented actors lose a lot of roles because of their inability to take criticism or notes. 

Plus, the whole “Breaking Bad” series?? I highly doubt the main actors were meth-making drug-lords. Or, a better example, “The Wire?” In that show, we see the constant battle and deals between drug-lords and cops. 

Another point I’d like to make:  “...is a bunch of codes for a performance.” That’s exactly right. The audience doesn’t want to know an actor is “performing.” We know that going in, with what is called “suspension of disbelief.” We know the whole show is a performance, but we also expect the actors to be truthful (unless it’s a comedy/farce, but again, that’s a different argument). 

Was it bad that, before 2020, some main characters in TV shows were portrayed as straight but the writers ended up “queer-baiting?” I am referring, of course, to House, M.D. (If you follow this blog, you’ll understand.) But I am also referring to the BBC Sherlock Holmes series. Yes, both pairs of characters (House and Wilson; Holmes and Watson) are assumed to be straight. However, some episodes allude that there could also be something more there. Even the actors have said in various interviews that they aren’t sure if it’s a true romance that the characters are afraid to face, or just a strong bond between best friends that blurs the line between platonic and romantic. I’m paraphrasing, but you get the picture. Therefore, should these characters have only been played by straight actors who are questioning their sexuality or feelings for a best friend? Would it have been disrespectful to gay people if these characters ended up becoming romantically involved? (If we ask the Hilson and Johnlock community, I’m guessing that’s a resounding “NO WAY! IT WOULD BE A DREAM COME TRUE!” xD <3) 

“It's about authenticity, the taste of 2020.” *Cinema Sins sigh*

"You wouldn't cast someone able-bodied and put them in a wheelchair...” Again I say, directors and casting directors need to ALWAYS search for someone who is in a wheelchair, or deaf, or HOH, etc. before looking for an able-bodied actor to play a character with that disability (I’m iffy on the whole term “disability because of its negative connotations, but I’m using that word in order to keep this post as long as possible). But I give you the example of Rainman with Dustin Hoffman. Or A Beautiful Mind with Russell Crowe. Or the play and movie Proof, where the father had a mental illness?  Anthony Hopkins was diagnosed late in life with Asperger’s Syndrome, but the father in Proof was written to allude more to schizophrenia. And yet, Anthony Hopkins did a tremendous job in that role. Or Even Forrest Gump with Tom Hanks. Many people today love Tom Hanks and laud him as a “woke” celebrity. But if he were to portray the role of Forrest Gump today, how many people would try to “cancel” him or at least have very strong words for the director not casting an actor with autism, due to the character’s autistic tendencies? A whole lot of people on the internet and Twitter, I’ll bet. As someone who struggles with anxiety and panic disorder, would I be upset if someone without that mental illness got cast in a role of a character struggling with that? Sure I would. But if they did an authentic job and approached the role respectfully, it would be hard to stay irritated. Besides, there are always more roles created practically everyday. 

To continue on with Davies’ quote: “...you wouldn't black someone up.” Yikes. I’m sure he didn’t mean this in a cast-off kind of way, but that’s how it comes across. I can see now why he said he wasn’t “being woke about this,” because a more “woke” way of putting that would be...what, exactly? “You wouldn’t cast a non-black person in a black role.” That sounds better and less harsh. Or even “a white person in a minority role.” Which should be common sense, and I agree with both statements. 

And then “Authenticity is leading us to joyous places." Oh! Look at that! There’s that word that I’ve been using and emphasizing throughout this whole post! Authenticity is one major brick in the foundation of good, credible acting. 

“High-profile examples of straight performers playing LGBTQ+ characters include Rami Malek's Oscar-winning portrayal of Freddie Mercury in Bohemian Rhapsody, and Taron Egerton's Golden Globe-winning turn as Sir Elton John in Rocketman.”

I haven’t seen Rocketman, but I saw Bohemian Rhapsody and it was great! Why am I high-lighting this movie? Because it’s the perfect example of a straight actor playing a gay character and playing it authentically, while also looking a lot like the real person they’re portraying. If a look-a-like had been cast who also happened to be gay, but couldn’t act to save their life or couldn’t bring as much as Rami brought to the role, wouldn’t that kind of put a damper on the film? And yet, Rami Maleck both looked the part and brought an authenticity to the role that many Queen fans loved and appreciated. Even the remaining Queen band members said that he did an incredible job and Freddy would be proud. I wonder if Freddy would care that Rami wasn’t gay? I doubt it, but no one can know for certain. 

Then there’s the whole term “gay face.” I personally don’t think this is the right term to use because it could possibly diminish the whole meaning and importance of “black face.” Even if Corden appeared to be mocking gay people (I never watched The Prom so I have no idea what his performance was like), calling it “gay face” takes away from and inadvertently belittles the whole dark history of “black face.” Black face’s whole history comes out of an even darker history of racist times filled with hatred and ignorance. I’m not saying that gay people haven’t had their own experiences with hate and intolerance, but isn’t kind of “un-woke” and “insensitive” to compare the hundreds of years of blatant, public racism against an entire race of people to the intolerance of homosexuals? (Again, I’m asking this genuinely because I want to learn and get other people’s opinions. I’m not trying to speak for any community, and I recognize that my personal opinion on this matter is just that: my opinion. And I could be better informed.)

Along the lines of the above paragraph, is it wrong to say or think that casting a non-minority actor in a minority role is a lot different from casting a straight actor in a gay role? Sexuality comes in all shapes, sizes, and colors; that is to say, every race has people with different sexualities. But I think it would be pretty cringe if a Caucasian actress was cast in a role meant for an Asian or African-American woman. 

Director Joe Mantello told Sky News the casting was not intentional, but rather a "very fortunate series of events".

He continued: "That being said, I think having an out gay cast really did inform the work and it took on a particular kind of tone because of that, which is not to say that's the only way to approach this material. But for this particular group, it did something that I think is very, very special. There's a chemistry that they have."

And this man summed up my entire argument! He also put into simpler terms what I have been trying to express about the beauty of theatre: there will always be special casts, especially when there’s a great chemistry from a shared experience. A "very fortunate series of events,” indeed. “The casting was not intentional...” leads me to believe that the director didn’t set out to have an all out-gay-cast, but rather, each actor brought great performances to their auditions and were considered by the director to be perfect for the roles. These actors also just happened to be gay.

If you’re still here after all of that, let me take a moment to sincerely thank you for reading the whole thing! I know it’s a lot, but I’m very passionate about acting and giving each and every actor a fair chance. Let me know what you think, and please be respectful!

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Verboten 15 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 15

It took almost twenty minutes for Danny’s mom to finish her tirade against the police. Watching her flip out on the officers was almost therapeutic, and by the time she was done, he was more amused then terrified. It made the actual interview much easier.

The police were initially skeptical, especially since his dad took the lead on explaining what happened. His childish excitement at getting to chase something made it sound like some made up fantasy, but that changed when Vlad gave his account. With his reputation, they were forced to take it seriously.

The older of the two officers, O’Brian, took the statements as his partner, Kiziah, reviewed the scene for any clues or evidence of how the creature got in the house. Other police offers were on the way to do a proper investigation.

“You’re the one that reported that murder… That was just, I guess it’s two days ago now,” O’Brian mentioned as he glanced at Danny, who nodded. “We chalked up the weirdness of your original statement due to shock, but if you’re telling me this thing is the same perp, I have no idea what we have on our hands.”

“I… I don’t really know if it was the same thing or not, but it looked like it.”

The officer frowned as his partner returned. “No obvious sign of a break in,” Kiziah stated, “but I don’t want to touch anything without an evidence kit. There’s definitely a weird substance in the living room and near the front door that will need analyzed.”

“You didn’t hear anything?” O’Brian looked back towards Danny and his parents.

“To be honest, our family tends to be heavy sleepers,” his mother explained as she gave him a sheepish grin. “Jack can sleep through almost anything, and I tend to wear earplugs.”

“And I am of the opposite,” Vlad stated as he made himself a cup of tea. “However, it wasn’t until I heard Daniel sprint up the stairs and bang on his parents’ door that I awoke.”

“Sorry about that.” Danny winced at he glanced at the man. Vlad didn’t seem as creepy as he had the previous day, but something still seemed off about him.

The man gave him a dismissive wave. “No worries, my dear boy. I believe your actions were more than understandable given the circumstances.”

“Err… I guess you want me to say if I heard anything?” Danny shook his head as the officers stared at him. “I didn’t. It… it was just a feeling, you know? Like when you get a sudden chill.” That statement was true enough. He figured it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to state the more paranormal aspect of it. “I thought I was just being paranoid until I looked down the stairs and that… that thing stared back at me.”

An awkward silence fell as O’Brian took some more notes. It was only broken when Kiziah received some sort of notification and moved to let the investigation team in. They quickly went to work examining the scene and looking for anything out of the ordinary. While they worked, an older man with a scar down the right side of his face took O’Brian and Kiziah aside and spoke with them. Once they finished, the older officer approached Danny and his family.

“I’m Lieutenant Metzger, and I’ve recently been put in charge of the investigation of the recent murders in the city. You’ve probably heard the rumors this is a serial case. Well, that’s true.” A muscle moved in the man’s cheek as he seemed to debate with himself over how much he could tell them. “Due to some of the details, we were under the impression these were ritualistic in nature and called in the FBI for some help.” He sighed before asking, “Is it okay if I sit?”

“Sure,” Danny’s mother shared a confused look with her husband before she asked the officer if he needed some coffee.

When he agreed, he waited until there was a cup in front of him to continue. “Look, I don’t want this being leaked. We don’t need people thinking the police force is wasting money on chasing fairy tales.” Once the Fenton family agreed, he continued, “You aren’t the first one to report something not quite human around the time of the incidences. Due to shock and figuring it was some sort of disguise, we originally disregarded that. However,” he glanced around before he leaned in, “one of my own officers gave a report earlier this week of glancing something inhuman. It actually attacked his patrol car before it vanished. On top of that, I don’t think whatever that thing spilled on your carpet has any sort of mundane explanation behind it.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes, “Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, I’m going to be frank with you. I would like to contract you for some sort of weapon for this thing. From previous experiences, I’m fully aware your… experiments don’t tend to do harm to people, so if… by the off chance, this isn’t something normal, we’ll have a way to stop it.”

Danny’s father immediately lit up in excitement. After rambling some idea, he ran down to the lab to act upon it before anyone could stop him.

“Don’t mind him,” his mother fondly chuckled. “Jack is very enthusiastic about our work.”

“I… uh… take that you’re willing to help us?”

“Oh, absolutely. If this thing is what we think it might possibly be, we were going to do that anyways. But I do need to ask you something. You mentioned you thought the attacks were ritual in nature. I’m not really sure how to ask this, but for those poor people, was there a part of the body missing?”

Metzger’s shoulders tensed at her question as his eyes narrowed. “How did you know about that?”

“Wait… wait, you’re telling me… that thing… what it was holding in its hand…” Danny couldn’t say it. The memory of the blood dripping from that thing’s hand temporarily overwhelmed him. He must have swayed as his mother gently put a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. If you decide to go help your father, I think he’d gladly welcome the help.”

Danny shook his head at the suggestion. He needed to stay put. It just felt safer with her and the officers around. She must have somehow understood as she gave his shoulder a motherly squeeze.

“You didn’t answer my question.” An irritated edge crept into Metzger’s voice.

His mother calmly turned back to him and returned his gaze. “I didn’t until just now. After Danny relayed his story, it struck a chord with me, and I did some digging. There is folklore in different parts of the US which tells of creatures who steal the life of humans and often a part of the body. If… if that’s what’s happening, then we’re in trouble.”

“What do you think this thing is doing?”

“Nothing good. Throughout history, humankind has offered up blood and other bodily sacrifices to gods, spirits, monsters, and everything in between. While usually the Aztecs come to mind, you can find evidence of this around the world. It’s believed those sacrifices would either strengthen or appease whichever entity was the focus.”

“Maddie, are you suggesting this thing is doing something similar?”

She nodded. “I… We aren’t sure if this thing is trying to strengthen itself or if it’s taking its gains to something else.”

A different memory surfaced in Danny’s mind. “That… when we were being rescued… the… the person that helped us get back… he said the A-listers got targeted for their blood,” he stammered before he could stop himself.

Everyone in the room stared at him. He and his friends really hadn’t talked about Frostbite. They mentioned to the police they thought someone helped them, but purposely left it vague. With how disoriented they were when they were found, the police were under the impression the trauma obscured some of their memories. Well, the cat was out of the bag.

Matzger stared at him. “Are you telling me what happened to your classmates may be related to… to this thing?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? Like I told my mom before you came, the person who grabbed me and my friends isn’t the same… whatever that thing is. But, I don’t know what Dash and them encountered after we got separated.”

“Hmm… what about the person who helped you?”

Danny shook his head. “Not the same person. He called himself Frostbite, and…” How could he even explain Frostbite? He was a ghostly yeti with an ice arm for God’s sake! “I didn’t think he was real,” he eventually stated as he glanced down at his hands. “He was so friendly and helpful. He was so much different than that thing.”

“Honey, you never really talked about this Frostbite person before.” His mother tried to reach out for his hand, but he pulled away.

“I… I thought he was a dream or hallucination or something for a while.” He hoped he sounded sincere. It was somewhat true after all. The fantastical nature of what happen still didn’t seem real to him, but he knew better. “I think he had helpers… there were other voices besides his.”

“That would line up with some of the evidence we have from your case,” Matzger stated as he rubbed his chin. “The injuries of you and your two friends were vastly different than the others who went missing which suggested multiple perpetrators. One of the other boys did mention that he thought they were rescued by a small group of people. I will have to take a closer look at the injuries of your classmates to determine whether or not they match up with our current victims. That should give us an idea if it’s the same thing or something different.”

“Sir,” officer Kiziah interrupted, “we’ve finished our initial sweep. We did have some trouble trying to keep Mr. Fenton out of the way in the basement area, but he’s promised to stay at the one table while we work. He’s apparently drafting some blueprints. Forensics is here and are working on collecting evidence. They’re hoping to talk to you.”

He sighed. “Thank you, Kiziah. Can you explain to them their options during our investigation progress?” After flashing them an apologetic smile which seemed out of place with his features, he told them he would be in touch and excused himself.

After shaking his head at his superior, Kiziah stated while the family could stay in the house during the investigation process, it had the possibility of accidentally contaminating evidence. He recommended for them to stay at a local hotel for a time.

Although his mother seemed hesitant to leave the house, she eventually agreed to head to a hotel after Vlad made a show of being concerned for the family’s safety. It took a bit of time to get his dad to leave the basement, but by the time seven am hit, Danny found himself in the best hotel in Amity Park, per Vlad’s firm recommendations.

After sending his friends a few texts to let them know what happened, that he was fine, and where he was, he told them he’d call them after he got some sleep. Although he wasn’t exactly happy he shared the room with Vlad, the pristine bed ended up being far more important to him than any worries.

…..

Several hours later, Danny woke up to one hundred and three texts, fifty-four missed calls, and eleven voicemails. Sam and Tucker had only one voicemail and call apiece and only a handful of texts. The rest were from his sister. Groaning, he sent Sam and Tucker messages to let them know he’d call them after he contacted his sister.

He really didn’t want to talk to Jazz at the moment. When she was scared, she became spastic, and a spastic Jazz was the last thing he wanted to deal with at the moment. Okay, the third to last think he wanted to deal with. The creepy thing and Plasmius took the top two places.

After taking several minutes to do everything other than call his sister, he finally buckled down and called her. As predicted, she spastically demanded to know if he was okay while berating him for not contacting her sooner. He just let her talk while making the occasional ‘uh huh’, ‘sorry,’ and ‘yeah.’ From experience, he knew it was better to let her get it out of her system.

He put Jazz on speaker while he attempted to find the hotel’s TV remote. Vlad didn’t seem to be in the room which really didn’t bother him. The man didn’t need to listen to Jazz flipping out after all. Eventually, he found the remote next to a message from Vlad stating he and his parents went to discuss something with the police and would be back with food.

“Danny, are you even listening to me?” Jazz demanded. He must have been quiet for too long.

“Uh? Yeah, I just happened to find a note Vlad left. You were saying something about how it was irresponsible for Dad to go running after the thing?”

“Wait, are you telling me you were left alone after everything that happened?”

“Jazz, I’m seventeen. I think I’m perfectly fine being alone for a few hours.”

“You were kidnapped by a crazy man and then were attacked in your own home! Do you really think it’s safe for you to be alone right now?” With that, she flew into a different tirade.

Knowing it would be a while, he decided the TV would be a preferable alternative to his upset sister. He turned it on only to have it immediately turn off. Thinking he accidentally doubled clicked the button, he tried again only to have the same result. Thinking the remote was damaged, he moved to try the button on the machine. Only, it turned on by itself. It and the lights began to dim and flicker, and his breath began to mist.

Glancing around, he watched as a girl emerged from the wall. At first, it seemed she didn’t notice him as she moved towards the opposite wall, but she stopped midway and faced him. She looked human but her entire body seemed insubstantial and almost wispy. Her skin, if it could be called that, was an unearthly white while her blue hair flickered like a flame.

She smirked at him while moving a little closer. “You shouldn’t be here, Baby Pop.” Her sultry and musical voice seemed far away, almost as if it was being broadcasted over an old radio. “Don’t know what you’re doing on this side of the veil, but you shouldn’t stay here.”

“What… what are you talking about? Who are you?” he stammered while vaguely registering Jazz asking him what was wrong.

“I like to slip to this side for some fun, but I might stick around a little longer this time. It’s already chaotic here, and a little more might do me some good. Besides, it seems I need to make a few people remember I still exist.” After appraising him, she gave another smile and headed back towards the wall. “You might want to get out while you can, Baby Pop. Things might get a little hot, and you new guys often aren’t strong enough to deal with the heat.”

“Hey, wait!” He tried to get her to stop, but she just vanished back into the wall. Unsure what to do, he stood in the center of the room dumbfounded until he realized his phone was still on speaker and his sister was calling for him.

“Hey, Jazz, I’m going to have to call you back,” he stated as he moved towards the door. “Something really weird just happened.” He hung up on her as he ran into the hallway looking for some evidence of the ghost.

He barely made it to the elevators when the fire alarm sounded. Not wanting to stick around, he quickly found the stairs and made his way to the lobby as the rest of the guests started to follow suit. By the time he reached the third floor, he began to smell smoke. There had to be a fire. Is that what that ghost meant? Did she somehow set it?

He really hoped that wasn’t the case. He really only needed on potentially supernatural thing causing problems in his life at a time.

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Prologue: Onset of Injury (Sy)

Characters: Captain Syverson, various OMCs

Summary: Sy’s POV, the night and the mission that ended his military career and set him unknowingly on a path to true love.

Catch up on all chapters right here!

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings:  Language, violence, attempted military talk, feels…

Author’s Note: Okay friends, most of what I know about military ops I learned from watching movies…so, this may not all be accurate. But I think most of the terms and jargon are in line, even if this mission wouldn’t necessarily go down like this.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson had done a hundred briefings like this one. They were going into a compound with some low level goons, mid-level players, and one big boss. Two teams. Two entrances. One exit. The roof. Air extraction. Minimal undesirable casualties. Five or six mid to high level prisoners.

“Alright ladies, here’s the plan. The compound is central city. Alpha team, we’ll get dropped off by transpo two blocks south of the front entrance, Bravo team, same for you, two blocks north of the back entrance. Bravo, you head east and down once inside, Alpha will go west and up. Standard flanking formation. Stay frosty in there. These guys aren’t cub scouts. They will shoot on sight. Do your best not to be seen. Once the lower levels are cleared, we work our way to the top where we should find the big Kahuna. Do your best not to kill anyone in a suit. Tac gear only, unless it’s your life or theirs. These guys have intel the brass wants. Supposedly.”

Heads were nodding. Lopez raised his hand. The other guys laughed, but Sy appreciated the respect.

“Ricky?” He pointed at him to accept the question.

“Sir, what about evac?” He stood tall and sharp. He was new to the team, but Sy liked him already.

“That’s a great question, and thank you for raising your hand. Take notes on teacher’s pet here, class.” Everyone including Lopez laughed.

“There’s a stairwell to the roof in the master bedroom. That’s the LZ for our helo. They should be less than five mikes out, so we shouldn’t have time to order pizzas or anything after we clear the compound. So once the call is made, you won’t have long to get up the stairs. The helo can’t stay grounded for too long without drawing attention. We will need to keep an eye out for unfriendlies off compound being warned about our presence, and for survivors. Listen, I can’t stress this enough. I know it’s not easy to kill. And I don’t encourage it if it’s not necessary.  But these are bad people and they would kill you, the man next to ya, your sister, your parents, or your dog if they could.”

Aika, Sy’s German Shepherd whimpered in the corner but was ignored.

“Kill them for your brothers. For your neighbors. For the children you don’t even have yet. Because what do we do?”

“We embrace the darkness and the suffering.” His teammates that had been there for a while repeated the first part of the sin-eater credo.

“And why do we do it?”

“So that our fellow man is free to live in peace.” they finished the mantra as they had so many times before.

“Fuckin’ A. We roll in one hour.”

~~~~~~~~~

The drop and the entry had gone off without a hitch. Sy's Alpha team were like shadows, the very finger of death for the unjust and evil in the compound. Everyone they encountered was quietly subdued, whether by strategically placed blades, silenced firearms, or in some cases, the literal snapping of necks. Bravo team was just as successful. But Alpha team wasn't finding many prisoners.

The real problem came, though, when they reached the top floor where the big kahuna was supposed to be. Everything had gone dark, even though it had been lit up like Christmas, the Fourth of July, and the Super Bowl all in one when they were making their approach to the compound. Someone had squawked. Raised a silent alarm. Something.

"This…this doesn't smell right, captain." Harztler voiced what was running silently through Sy's mind. "This level was like Times Square when we got here. Now nothing? It stinks."

"I can smell it, Jake. I don't like it." he activated his comms. "Bravo team, we are sitting ducks up here, what is your twenty? Over."

"Sir, we are wrapping up down here, and getting the targets ready for evac. We should be on route in less than ten mikes. Over."

"Push it to five if ya can, private. We don't like the look of this bedroom. Over."

"Is this the moment to be questioning someone's taste in interior design, captain? Over."

"Shitcan that disrespect, private, or you'll be digging latrines alone next time we have survival drills. Over."

"Understood, sir. Will try to push to five mikes. Over."

"That'd be best. Over and out." He signed off with Lopez, amused at the inferior officer’s joke, even though he couldn’t show it openly.

Hartzler has just started to suggest possible reasons for their unease when the sound of rapid automatic firepower rang out from one of the floors below them.

“Fuck.” Both men said in unison followed immediately by frantic shouts from Sy’s radio.

“*crackle crackle* we are taking heavy fire! Kominski is down! Lopez is hit! Alpha team! Captain, do you copy? Over!"

"I'm on my way, Fuller. Hang tight. Over and out." Sy said and looked at the men on his team, "Hartzler, you and Goldberg signal the Helo for evac ASAP and get to the roof. Schmidt, Freeman, you two come with me to back up Bravo team. We meet at the LZ in five. That's not a big window, gentlemen, we'll radio if we hit any snags. Clear?"

"Clear." a round of nods and affirmations came from the rest of the team. Sy turned for the exit to the room, checking his clip, and putting one in the chamber. Stakes were higher than ever.

The last three steps to the ground floor were half blocked by a slumped corpse. Kominski. Sy fought the emotion building in him as he remembered David showing him photos of his two young daughters, Charlotte, who was seven, and Renee who had just turned five. And his gorgeous wife Sasha. His high school sweetheart. He was distracted enough  by thought of the soon to be grieving girls, that he missed the pool of blood, Kominski's blood, on the black tile steps. His knee twisted unnaturally. And he could almost feel the protest of his muscles and tendons.

"Fuck! Mind your footing on these last few, boys." he winced, limping on toward the firefight. He signaled the men behind him to stay against the wall and follow him quietly until he gave the signal to attack. There were three men in tactical gear firing from behind a bar in the corner, pinning what was left of Bravo team in their position behind an overturned dining table. It was just Fuller and Lopez now. Sy took the opportunity during a slow point in the enemy's fire to enter, managing to shoot all three immediately, single handedly ending things.

"Alpha team, secure the area. Fuller, Lopez, what is your status?" Sy asked the men.

"Lopez is hit pretty bad in the leg. We've got a tourniquet in place. I am…uninjured. But our prisoners have been…neutralized by friendly fire." Well, fuck. That was the mission blown.

"Ammo?" Sy asked, frustrated.

"Depleted, sir." they hadn't planned for this.

"Fuller, you and Schmidt get Kominski up the stairs, pronto. We ain't leavin' him in this hell hole. Freeman, you watch their backs. Keep 'em covered in case there are any more of these assholes lurkin' around the place. Lopez, I'm gonna help you up them stairs. Can you get up?"

"I'll try, sir."

"Okay, roll out." Sy went to help Lopez to his feet. The boy wasn't hardly 160 pounds soakin' wet.

It was slow going, with Kominski and Lopez in tow, but they made it back to the bedroom just as the sound of the helicopter began to grow, and the roof began to quiver from the wind kicked up by the blades.

Sy made Schmidt and Fuller go first, as they had the biggest burden. Then Freeman, in case they needed another hand getting Kominski's body into the hold. His knee burned after the four flights he'd already done supporting Lopez, but the private had lost so much blood. He thought he'd have to carry him up this last flight to the roof. The boy was pale as a…sheet. He didn't let himself think of an apparition.

When he felt safe enough, and ready, he told Lopez the plan and hoisted him over his shoulder on his uninjured side. His knee protested angrily, but he proceeded, ignoring the pain, forcing it down with those emotions about the Kominski family.

Relief washed over him as he made the last step and his boot crunched against the loose pea gravel of the roof top. They were almost out of the woods.

Until a massive explosion in the HVAC unit knocked him off balance and took him down to his knees, Lopez's added weight a contributing force in what he was certain was now a broken leg bone given a very clear and distinct pop he'd heard even over the noise of the fire and wind. He had heard it from the inside. He thought  it would be the tibia, but his knowledge of anatomy wasn't anything to write home about. He dropped the boy with an agonized howl. The heat from the blast bit at his back as he tried to find the strength to stand. But he couldn't. His team was charging toward him and the private. And for once, he was overjoyed to receive help. Fuller and Freeman got Lopez under each arm and dragged him the few yards to the open hold. Schmidt helped Sy up as best he could, but the Captain was in excruciating pain.

"Captain, we gotta go. These assholes are gonna blow up their own property to get us. Come on. It's not far. You can make it." Schmidt let his CO lean on him all the way to the helo.

Sy noticed tied up in one of the bucket seats of the hold, a man in maroon silk pajamas and brown leather loafers without socks. An Iraqi, early sixties, hair and beard still dark black. Their primary target. Mostafa Kassab.

"Where'd he come from?" Sy shouted at Hartzler.

"He was hunkered down in that corner over there when we came up to signal the chopper." the sergeant lit up with pride. "Fuller told me their prisoners didn't make it. I'm glad we found Kassab up here, or the mission would have been a total waste.

As they took off, Sy looked from the covered body of Kominski to the prone form of Lopez, who was paler than ever and glassy-eyed. It was hard in that moment to think that even ten of Mostafa Kassab could be worth one of these men he was lucky enough to call friends.

As he examined his knee, beginning to swell and looking a much different shape than he ever remembered, he thought about what this could mean for him, as a captain, as a soldier…as a man. If he could even call himself a man if he had to take away the title of captain and soldier. This was his calling. He wasn’t sure how he’d go on if…but, he’d wait to think about that when he got back to base and the medic’s tent. After all, what was the worst that could happen? It wasn’t like he was hurt bad enough to earn a discharge letter…was he?

Up Next: Chapter One: Evaluation

[arseneiic]

Short, sweet, and to the point. Follow these rules and we all have a great time.

1. Mutuals only. I must be following you and you must be following me. Only those that I follow can like starter calls, send in character asks, and reply to posts.

1a. I will not interact with non-Mutuals, that includes asks, unless it’s done anonymously and it doesn’t have a url attached.  Anyone who breaks this rule will get about a few pardons but after that will be blocked.

2. My time is limited here in what I can do. This means that I am very selective in what I reply to. Doesn’t necessary mean that I am ignoring anyone. Some days I reply to everything and everyone, others I am so burnt out from irl things or work that I just lurk and do the bare minimum. My mental health and well-being comes before anything else.

2a. Replies vary by length and time. I normally work eight to ten hours a day and experience a lot of exhaustion. Unless I don’t see a thread or an ask going anywhere and publicly make a post saying it’s been dropped, consider everything as pending / will do ASAP. Memes are okay to send in late unless it clearly states, not accepting. My timezone is Eastern Standard Time or EST. United States is where I am located at. I am usually online from 10 PM EST to 3 AM EST unless it’s a day off from work, which the online time will vary from 12 PM EST to 3 AM EST.

2b.  Role-playing is a hobby, not a job. Do not pester me for replies or asks to be answered. I am not obligated to owe anyone anything on this website. I am human and can’t cater to everyone’s needs.  Being persistent here is not going to make me answer yours faster than other people.

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3. If you do need to break mutuals with me, HARD BLOCK my blog. Don’t just UNFOLLOW or SOFT BLOCK because chances are that I could mistakenly follow you again. And that’s something we both don’t want since it would be quite awkward.

3a. I have the right to unfollow whoever I want to and so do you. Please don’t go on a hunt and try to guilt trip me into following you back again. Just don’t. I can and will tell you the reason why I unfollowed you but other than that, just let me leave in peace.

3b. Personal blogs and non RP blogs will be blocked on site. Please, if you have a side blog let me know through asks so I don’t accidentally block you. IMs are not a good way to let me know since they are closed for non-mutuals.

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4a. Original Characters are allowed to follow me. However, they need to be a little flesh out before I make a decision to follow them back or not. Just a small backstory or biography is all that I need. Headcanons also work if there isn’t an about page but must have about one page worth for me to consider following.

4b. Crossover Characters from other shows are allowed to follow me but I must know about said muse or else I’ll have a hard time whether to follow or not. Few fandoms I won’t interact with because I have no interest in these series are: Avatar the Last Airbender, Avatar the Legend of Korra. ( more to be added ).

5. I am a multi-ship blog. Arsene himself is ageless but his physical form is around 25 when he became a shadow / persona / demon and as such, I will only be shipping him romantically with muses around the 20s to 30s range. Some threads may get a little spicy but nothing that requires a ‘do not read at work’ type of posts. I will tag those post that are suggestive with a ‘spicy: tw & spicy for ts’ and ‘Looks like someone needs proper punishment’ for blacklisting purposes.

5a. I am open to all kinds of ships, not just romantic ones. I also enjoy platonic, rivalry, and familiar bonds. All ships are open to discussions through my IM(s) or otherwise known as Instant Messenger. Chemistry is key. As long as we interact a little, there’s always the chance that both muses can be in a relationship.

6. Things for you to tag for me are: BIRDS, CHAIN LETTERS, ORGANS, DOGS. For the birds and dogs, just in real life ones trigger me. I am fine with cartoon / art / video game ones as they are not real.

6a. Things I’ll tag for you: BLOOD, GORE, DEATH, BODY HORROR, EYE HORROR, INSECTS, MAGGOTS, BRUISES, SCARS, GUNS, KNIVES, CLOWNS. If there are anything I missed that you want tagged, please let me know through IM(s).

7. I am over the age of eighteen. However, I refuse to write smut as I am not comfortable with that subject to begin with. Please never force me to write this with you and if you keep sending things to me in this type of nature, I will report you, no questions asked.

7a. If I see any form of hate and I find out it was you that sent it, I will immediately BLOCK you. No questions asked. Life is too short to send unwanted hate, anon or not. All anon hate and hate towards me and my characters ( s ) in general will be reported and then blocked, no questions asked.

8. My pen name on here is SERE. Obviously, that is not my real name but it’s what I go by. It’s short for ‘Serena’, the English name that DIC gave Usagi Tsukino in the Americanized version of Sailor Moon. It’s pronounced; SIR-REE.

9. I am not a meme source. If you need to reblog a meme from my blog and don’t plan to send me anything, reblog from the source. I hardly get asks as it is, and for you to just use me as a meme source puts a bad taste in my mouth and I feel like I’m being used, which isn’t a good feeling. If you wonder if you should send in a meme to me, please do. I love getting asks. I do hoard them from time to time like a dragon hoards treasure but I do get to them eventually. The more memes / asks, the merrier.

9a.  Feel free to turn inbox replies into threads. Just remember to make separate post when replying. Do not reblog threads not meant for you and don’t reblog my headcanons. It’s okay to reblog my asks though if you want them to be keepsakes on your own blog. Also, it’s alright to reblog musings and images from me.

10. I rather not be bothered by callout posts and any potential drama that might accumulate. I am just here to have fun and I hope everyone else can too. Life is too short to spend on certain things that don’t matter in the long run. If I see multiple call out posts from you in a single day or that’s all you post, I will quietly unfollow you.

11.  Out of character posts will be on here from time to time. Mostly talking about life in general or me venting once in a great while. If this annoys you, please remember that this is my blog, not yours. You are welcomed to unfollow / block at any time.

11a.  The best way to interact with me is to send memes / asks / inbox things. I am always up for unprompted things in my inbox. Also, my instant messenger is always open if someone needs to contact me out of character or to plot something. Don’t hesitate to talk to me. I will try my best to respond.

11b. Not interacting after a month or two with me and my blog will make me silently unfollow you or result in a soft block. Or if you don’t interact with me at all, even out of character. Also, if you are gone for more than 6 months, I consider your blog inactive and will probably assume that you aren’t going to return.

12. I’m really laid-back in nature so don’t feel pressure to reply to anything I send to you. I understand that life happens and that sometimes you just need to unwind from the stress of daily life.

13. For pronouns; either SHE/HER or THEY/THEM is okay with me. My orientation is DEMIROMANTIC ASEXUAL. I love anime, manga, video games, music, drawing, and writing. If you read all of this, then thank you! I won’t ask for passcodes but please still try to remember these at some point. That’s all I ask. <3.

( rules may be updated from time to time so please check here once in awhile. I will also post when these are updated as well ).

[braveryhearted]

RULES

Short, sweet, and to the point. Follow these rules and we all have a great time.

1. Mutuals only. I must be following you and you must be following me. Only those that I follow can like starter calls, send in character asks, and reply to posts.

1a. I will not interact with non-Mutuals, that includes asks, unless it’s done anonymously and it doesn’t have a url attached.  Anyone who breaks this rule will get about a few pardons but after that will be blocked.

2. My time is limited here in what I can do. This means that I am very selective in what I reply to. Doesn’t necessary mean that I am ignoring anyone. Some days I reply to everything and everyone, others I am so burnt out from irl things or work that I just lurk and do the bare minimum. My mental health and well-being comes before anything else.

2a. Replies vary by length and time. I normally work eight to ten hours a day and experience a lot of exhaustion. Unless I don’t see a thread or an ask going anywhere and publicly make a post saying it’s been dropped, consider everything as pending / will do ASAP. Memes are okay to send in late unless it clearly states, not accepting. My timezone is Eastern Standard Time or EST. United States is where I am located at. I am usually online from 10 PM EST to 3 AM EST unless it’s a day off from work, which the online time will vary from 12 PM EST to 3 AM EST.

2b.  Role-playing is a hobby, not a job. Do not pester me for replies or asks to be answered. I am not obligated to owe anyone anything on this website. I am human and can’t cater to everyone’s needs.  Being persistent here is not going to make me answer yours faster than other people.

2c. Don’t follow, unfollow, and then refollow my blog. It’s not going to make me want to follow you back, ever. It’s annoying and no one is being crafty by doing that. If you continue to do this and it isn’t a tumblr glitch, I will be inclined to block and possibly report for spam.

3. If you do need to break mutuals with me, HARD BLOCK my blog. Don’t just UNFOLLOW or SOFT BLOCK because chances are that I could mistakenly follow you again. And that’s something we both don’t want since it would be quite awkward.

3a. I have the right to unfollow whoever I want to and so do you. Please don’t go on a hunt and try to guilt trip me into following you back again. Just don’t. I can and will tell you the reason why I unfollowed you but other than that, just let me leave in peace.

3b. Personal blogs and non RP blogs will be blocked on site. Please, if you have a side blog let me know through asks so I don’t accidentally block you. IMs are not a good way to let me know since they are closed for non-mutuals.

4. Duplicates are welcomed to follow me. The more the merrier. I do not suffer from same muse anxiety and encourage any of the same muse to follow me. Only request is that you don’t steal my headcanons, edits or icons. Other than that, we should all be able to have a good time. I’m always up for twin verses or alternate universes shenanigans.

4a. Original Characters are allowed to follow me. However, they need to be a little flesh out before I make a decision to follow them back or not. Just a small backstory or biography is all that I need. Headcanons also work if there isn’t an about page but must have about one page worth for me to consider following.

4b. Crossover Characters from other shows are allowed to follow me but I must know about said muse or else I’ll have a hard time whether to follow or not. Few fandoms I won’t interact with because I have no interest in these series are: Avatar the Last Airbender, Avatar the Legend of Korra. ( more to be added ).

5. I am a multi-ship blog. All ships are separate in their own standings. A little less than half of my muses are between the ages of 15-18 and then the rest are in the 20-30 range. As such, I will only be shipping them romantically with muses their own age. Some threads may get a little spicy for those 20-30 age groups but nothing that requires a ‘ do not read at work’ type of posts. I will tag those post that are suggestive with a ‘spicy: tw & spicy for ts’ for blacklisting purposes.

5a. I am open to all kinds of ships, not just romantic ones. I also enjoy platonic, rivalry, and familiar bonds. All ships are open to discussions through my IM(s) or otherwise known as Instant Messenger. Chemistry is key. As long as we interact a little, there’s always the chance that both muses can be in a relationship.

6. Things for you to tag for me are: BIRDS, CHAIN LETTERS, ORGANS, DOGS. For the birds and dogs, just irl ones trigger me. I am fine with cartoon / art / video game ones as they are not real.

6a. This blog will contain sensitive themes from time to time. However, I will tag common things like those mentioned below. If you need anything tagged, please let me know through instant messaging / IMs. Things I’ll tag for you are but not limited to: BLOOD, GORE, DEATH, BODY HORROR, EYE HORROR, INSECTS, MAGGOTS, BRUISES, SCARS, GUNS, KNIVES, CLOWNS.  

7. I am over the age of eighteen. However, I refuse to write smut as I am not comfortable with that subject to begin with and also the fact that some of the muses found here are MINORS which is a big huge NO. Please never force me to write this with you and if you keep sending things to me in this type of nature, I will report you, no questions asked.

7a. If I see any form of hate and I find out it was you that sent it, I will immediately BLOCK you. No questions asked. Life is too short to send unwanted hate, anon or not. All anon hate and hate towards me and my characters ( s ) in general will be reported and then blocked, no questions asked.

8. My pen name on here is SERE. Obliviously, that is not my real name but it’s what I go by. It’s short for ‘Serena’, the English name that DIC gave Usagi Tsukino in the Americanized version of Sailor Moon. It’s pronounced; SIR-REE.

9. I am not a meme source. If you need to reblog a meme from my blog and don’t plan to send me anything, reblog from the source. I hardly get asks as it is, and for you to just use me as a meme source puts a bad taste in my mouth and I feel like I’m being used, which isn’t a good feeling. If you wonder if you should send in a meme to me, please do. I love getting asks. I do hoard them from time to time like a dragon hoards treasure but I do get to them eventually. The more memes / asks, the merrier.

9a.  Feel free to turn inbox replies into threads. Just remember to make separate post when replying. Do not reblog threads not meant for you and don’t reblog my headcanons. It’s okay to reblog my asks though if you want them to be keepsakes on your own blog. Also, it’s alright to reblog musings and images from me.

10. I rather not be bothered by callout posts and any potential drama that might accumulate. I am just here to have fun and I hope everyone else can too. Life is too short to spend on certain things that don’t matter in the long run. If I see multiple call out posts from you in a single day or that’s all you post, I will quietly unfollow you.

11.  Out of character posts will be on here from time to time. Mostly talking about life in general or me venting once in a great while. If this annoys you, please remember that this is my blog, not yours. You are welcomed to unfollow / block at any time.

11a.  The best way to interact with me is to send memes / asks / inbox things. I am always up for unprompted things in my inbox. Also, my instant messenger is always open if someone needs to contact me out of character or to plot something. Don’t hesitate to talk to me. I will try my best to respond.

11b. Not interacting after a month or two with me and my blog will make me silently unfollow you or result in a soft block. Or if you don’t interact with me at all, even out of character. Also, if you are gone for more than 6 months, I consider your blog inactive and will probably assume that you aren’t going to return.

12. I’m really laid-back in nature so don’t feel pressure to reply to anything I send to you. I understand that life happens and that sometimes you just need to unwind from the stress of daily life.

13. For pronouns; either SHE/HER or THEY/THEM is okay with me. My orientation is DEMIROMANTIC ASEXUAL. I love anime, manga, video games, music, drawing, and writing. If you read all of this, then thank you! I won’t ask for passcodes but please still try to remember these at some point. That’s all I ask. <3.

( rules may be updated from time to time so please check here once in awhile. I will also post when these are updated as well

[themadauthorshatter]

WELCOME BACK ONE AND ALL!

Welcome back to MY take on Toppat!Charles, the series that gives you... angst and cliffhangers in every chapter, just like Game of Thrones😅.

In case you haven't read them yet here are links to the first three parts, which I recommend you read because the brief recaps don't do them justice.

Part 1:

Part 2:

Part 3:

BRIEF RECAP AND HEADCANON TO FOLLOW FOR THE POST TIME!

After his attack on Burt, Charles has caved and is now open to what Right has to say and vice versa. Henry and Gerneral Galeforce, more Galeforce, have been contacted by the Center for Chaos Containment and offered their men for one Henry Stickmin. Ellie has been good emotional support, but Henry goes against Galeforce and Ellie in order to save his friend.

Got that? Great!👍

So what's the headcanon this week? Well, @triple-threat-toppats and @azuri-the-imperfect-artist have AU's/headcanons that Toppat-ing is in Henry's blood, whether that be biological or otherwise, and we'll be meeting a new character this chapter who ties this all together perfectly😈.

We all good? FANTASTIC!

LET'S DIVE IN!!

We pick up where we left off with Henry outside as a receptionist, of sorts, freaks out that he called, telling everyone on the floor and shouting for an official to take the call.

Through this entire exchange, Henry rolls his eyes at how much of a fan boy the receptionist is, groans that no one can find an official at two' in the moring, and eventually takes a seat and listens as a few mid-ranking officials argue about who gets to talk to him; 10.6 anomaly, he's a pretty big deal to them.

They all fall silent when a man shouts, "Hand 'im over to me."

Henry should be scared, but he's glad that FINALLY someone is on the other end to talk to.

"Mr. Stickmin," says the official. "Nice of you to call."

"Who am I speaking with right now?" Henry asks as he stands up, not at all interested in playing games. (The irony that hit me after I typed that🤦‍♀️😂😂)

The official scoffs, "Not one for banter. I respect that. Son, name's Corporal Bill Bullet, leading official of the Center for Chaos Containment. How can we help you at this hour?"

Henry paces as he continues talking. "You talked to General Rupert Galeforce, right?"

"We did, actually. About you, but you probably already guessed that."

Henry looks back at the toppat orbital station, staring at it as he stays silent. Again, he is not in the mood for games.

Bullet sighs on the other end of the phone. "Guess you calling means you've made you're choice?"

Henry is quiet for a second and swallows a lump in his throat. "What happens if I agree to the terms?"

"Take a guess, kid."

Henry sees flashes of his life if he is in the CCC's custody and groans at the migraine said flashes give him.

"You're quite the interesting person, Henry. Robbing a bank with a bag, breaking out of prison by dogding and throwing bullets before stealinga police car, stealing a diamond by pushing yourself off a bridge, taking down the toppats, and escaping a maximum security complex with barely even a scratch."

Henry bites his tongue as he remembers those moments and their alternative paths INCLUDING the fails.

"But you didn't just get a few scratches, you did? 10.6 is a pretty high rating on our meter. Can't imagine what would happen to a person who causes as much chaos as you."

Henry shakes his head and snaps, "Just tell me!"

Bullet is silent once more, disappointed at how he can't at least tease what is essentially a rabbit walking right into an easily seen trap.

"We'll study the source of your... ability. How one person can live one life before jumping to the next, but existing like he did before that life ended.

"You may be a young man, Henry, but you've probably lived longer and died more than the rest of us put together. Why is that? How, excatly?"

Despite the knot forming in his stomach, Henry nods and hums to let Bullet know he's listening.

"There's also a certain balance to the world, one that shouldn't be bothered, 'less we want to cause A LOT of collateral damage. Lead to a lot of people getting hurt, cause a lot of casualties. You already lost one person you care about. What if you lost all of them?"

Henry gulps as he remembers the complex riot and how a robot was sent to tear down the museum he stole the Tunisian Diamond from.

Any of those people could've easily been Ellie or the General or, if he'd gone down the Toppat route, the entire clan.

Bullet may be manipulating emotionally, but he kind of has a point.

The chaos Henry causes is extremely dangerous, if what we've seen in StD, ItA, FtC, and CtM are any examples. Imagine if he had caused that sort of chaos in a major city, like real world New York or Detroit.

I don't know about you guys, but if something like any of the games happened IRL, all caused by Henry, there would easily be cities flattened to the ground with COUNTLESS fatalities.

"Helloooo? You still with me, Mr. Stickmin?"

Henry snaps out of his stupor and takes a deep breath before talking again. "Promise me you'll help. I want your honest word."

"Which I'll stay good on as long ad you keep your end of the bargain," Bullet retorts. "A quarter of our forces at your disposal to help you get your friend back as long as you turn yourself in to our facility. Deal?"

Henry is silent again, but when he speaks again, he tries something:

"Will I still talk to anyone outside? Send them any letters?"

"Not really. Think the government would handle our research well? Or what you can do?

"Last chance, deal or no deal?"

Henry stares up at the sky, counting the stars and moon, and then watches orbital station drift across the sky, covering part of the moon.

"Sir, we have a situation!" Someone yells on the other end.

Bullet does one if those angry growls or snarls. "Don't keep me waiting on your answer, Henry. Our resources are limited, too. Make your decision and call me back the second you do."

"Sir-"

"I'M COMING!"

The call ends and Henry lets out a sigh as he drops to his knees and then hugging them to his chest, shaking and now doubting whether or not he's making the right choice.

Unbeknownst to him, however, Ellie had followed him when he walked out and is struggling very badly with hiding her tears and sobbing from Henry, who is over a few feet away.

JUMP TO SOME FAN SERVICE!!😍🤩

Er, Charles. Jump to Charles. I SAID CHARLES!!!!!

Charles is mostly done showering, mostly because he's done washing and cleaning himself up, even shaving because he looks better without facial hair, and is now simply standing in the shower and letting the water fall on him.

He can't exactly remember how long it's been since he showered last, but he doesn't bother trying to because it only makes him think about how the government destroyers were blown up and anyone who managed to get on the station was killed as a message to the government and Henry and Ellie, and as an example for Charles, in case he gets any ideas.

He keeps thinking about how Henry looked at him before he went unconscious, how Henry did nothing to help him even though HE could've done something. He had before on missions, so what had stopped him then and there?

"I was wondering the same thing," Right says, though Charles doesn't hear him over the water running.

Charles gasps as he slips to the ground and realizes how he's thinking about his friend, forgetting Right was standing on the other side of the wall and curtain to keep an eye on him, just in case.

"N-no," Charles says to who he thinks is himself. "He... He wouldn't just leave me. None of them would."

Right rolls his eyes at this and steps closer to where he's in front of the curtain, though he does grab a towel. "You know, you talk to yourself a lot. 'S kind of freaky."

Charles curls into himself and into the corner of the shower and covers his ears. "Shut up! Just shut up and leave me alone!"

"How long have you been here?" Right asks as he looks up at the ceiling. "And why isn't Henry here to get you out? Aren't you two supposed to be friends?"

"Stop it!" Charles cries, curling into himself further.

Right smirks and decides to twirs the knife. "He helped that Ellie girl, didn't he? When she needed his help? I wonder if what they say is true? Birds of a feather flock together? They're both criminals, so I wouldn't really blame them for teaming up."

"SHUT YOUR STUPID MOUTH!" Charles screams. "YOU'RE WRONG! ALL OF YOU ARE WRONG! HE'S COMING TO SAVE ME, THEY ALL ARE!"

Right's smirk drops and he raises and eyebrow before drawing back the curtain.

Charles flinches back, covering his head and waiting for the strike.

But it never comes.

He looks up at Right, who's standing and giving him a look that says very clearly, 'I'm getting sick of your shit, stop.'

The two stare at each other for a bit, Charles wide eyed and scared before glaring as hard as he can.

Right keeps his bored expression because while he's probably in the best shape he's been in in a WHILE, Charles has lost at least twenty-five pounds and is cowering in the corner of a shower with long hair and clean shaven face; one lesson they teach you: you don't always need a mirror to shave your face.

The two continue their staring contest until Right slings the towel over his shoulder, takes off his top hat, and reaches into the shower with his cybernetic hand and turns off the water, flicking any off his fingers before stepping back and putting his top hat back on, Charles staring the whole time in case Right attacks him.

Right doesn't, of course, and tosses Charles the towel before pointing to a set of clothes hanging behind him and , just something neat but comfortable, not exactly a sweater and sweat pants, but close enough.

He then walks away until he's facing the door, his back to Charles.

"Hurry up and get dressed. Your room's ready."

Charles dries off and does get dressed, but he's careful to not take his eyes off Right.

First this guy got Charles captured and isolated him from everyone else, and now he's letting Charles shower and have his own room?

What's he up to?

Don't worry, he doesn't talk to himself this time.

Charles finishes putting on the clothes Right gave him, and looks at the towel he'd just hung on the hanger that held his clothes. Then he looks at Right, who's back is still turned.

You know EXACTLY where this is going.

Charles takes down the towel, careful that it doesn't hit the wall, and starts twisting it up as he sneaks up to Right, who either looks down at a wrist watch or checks a pocket watch because now he's getting a little bored.

Just as Charles is about to get the jump on him, Right pivots to face him.

"Good. You're done. It took you long enough."

Charles is absolutely speechless as he goes completely pale his face drops.

"Here, let me take that for you." Right pulls the towel out of Charles's hands and unwinds it. "Shouldn't do this to a wet towel. Could get moldy."

Right nods his head as a 'follow me' and leaves the showers.

Charles remains shell shocked for a minute and tries not to burst into tears at how his plan blew up his his face, but ultimately walks after Right, who strides ahead with a smile on his face.

Think Henry got away with that call? Weeeeeeeelll...

CUT TO THE GOVERNMENT

Galeforce SLAMS his hands on his desk, making Henry jump slightly in his chair and Ellie flinch against the wall, her arms crossed and shoulders hunched.

"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND!? ACCEPTING THE DEAL MADE BY THOSE NUTJOBS!? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?"

Henry's sign is sloppy and fast, but the general still understands it. 'Wanted Charles safe.'

"So do we, Henry, but not by selling one of our best!"

Henry shakes his head and signs again, this time more clearly. 'You can't make me change my mind.'

Ellie speaks up after being silent for so long: "Henry, think about what you're doing."

'Already did. Made up my mind.'

"Son, it's not worth it."

Those words hit Henry harder than they should, making him grit his teeth.

"Trust me. Those CCC guys are nothing but trouble. We can't accept their help."

Henry shoots up to his feet. "I DON'T CARE!" He screams. "CHARLES IS TRAPPED IN SPACE WITH NO ONE TO HELP HIM AND IT'S MY FAULT HE'S UP THERE TO BEGIN WITH, SO LET ME FIX THIS!"

No one talks as Henry pants, falling back into his chair and holdong his head in his hands, pulling slightly at his hair and shaking.

"It's all I can think of doing. It's our only option. I can't think of anything else."

Ellie and Galeforce exchange glances before turning back to Henry, who leans heavily on one hand or arm as he meets their gaze.

"You're sure you know what you're doing?"

Henry looks at them both for a moment while not speaking before nodding slowly. 'I can't think of anything else. The corporal hung up before I could say yes. Someone talked about a 'situation.''

Ellie and Henry stare at each other, the former more puffy eyed than she was last night because this could very well be the last time she sees her friend.

She doesn't want him to leave, but if it's really his choice, who is she to not support him after all he did to help her?

"When do you-"

'I'm going in to visit later. Called back and told them I'd gove my answer AFTER I talked to someone.'

Both look at him incredulously.

"Talk to who?" Galeforce asks as he turns his head to look at Henry through the corner of his eye.

Henry takes in a deep breath through his nose and holds either of his hands at the top of his head, raising them up and down, gesturing a top hat to them.

BACK TO CHARLES

Right leads Charles to the room and watches him walk inside and look around, almost confused because it's been so so long since he'd last been in a normal bedroom. And because there's a chance this could all be a trick.

"Been a while since you had a decent room. Prob'ly nicer than what you're used to."

Charles takes a seat on the bed and keeps his head down, confused and tired of Right's games.

"You don't really believe Henry's gonna save you, do you? It's been a while since the last destroyer was sent and the government has more pilots. You military people are pretty easy to replace. You are just a pilot, after all."

Charles keeps his head down and lets his hair hang; it's obviously grown longer and Right gave him a razor but no scissors.

"Why are you doing this?" Charles asks. "What do you want from me?"

Right fights a smile and approaches Charles, taking a knee infront of him and waiting for the pilot to acknowledge him, which Charles does by picking up his head and meeting his eyes.

BACK TO THE CCC HEADQUARTERS!!!!!

Henry is being led by four guards and Bill Bullet. He hasn't gotten a lot of sleep, but he's good at not showing it.

"Weird request to visit someone before you make your decision. Usually we don't allow visitors." Bullet turns and sees Henry keeping up behind him, zoning out slightly but snapping out of it when he sees him looking. "You're not as talkative as you were on the phone the other night."

'Only way to contact you,' Henry signs.

Bullet smirks a little bit. "You deaf in one of your ears?"

'If I need to, I'll talk. Otherwise, I'll sign. Now where is he?'

Bullet sighs stops at an acrylic wall, seeing a doctor talking to a man.

Henry bristles slightly before calming himself back down.

"Guessing you two haven't talked in a while. I love reunions."

Henry narrows his eyes at Bill and gestures to the room. 'Private?'

"Enough. Don't worry, we won't listen in." Bill then grabs Henry by his jacket lapel and shoves him against the wall, catching the attention of doctor and occupant. "But I'm warning you right now," Bill growls as he leans close to Henry's face. "Try anything funny while you're in there, and I'll make you regret ever being born."

Henry nods and Bullet backs off him, letting him collect himself as the doctor walks out.

"Sir? He's done with his tests. His vitals and mental state are stable. He's also ready to see his visitor."

Bullet sweeps a gesture to the door. "He's all yours, Mr. Stickmin."

Henry nods and enters the room, his eyes on its occupant.

The two stare at each other for a bit, taking in each other's features.

"Hello, Henry."

The man in this room used to be moderately fit, and a REAL charmer, but years spent in the CCC's facility have taken their toll. He's gotten skinnier, his face is wrinkled and sunken in, and his hair, while it's slightly longer than Henry's, is greying and becoming thin. He doesn't look terrible by any means, but he has definitely seen better days.

He has cybernetics for both his arms and one leg, along his spine, neck to tailbone, and in part of his jaw. Where his left eye used to be, the eyelids are closed and flat; he's not even allowed to have a glass eye.

Being overthrown by Reginald Copperbottom, both literally and figuratively, forever left him with a permanent reminder.

The two stare at each other for a little while longer before Henry replies to the notorious worst leader in the toppat clan's history.

"Hi, Dad."

The two continue staring, Henry shuffling in place and Terrence rubbing his neck.

Henry signs, 'How is it here?'

"A hell hole. Nothing to do, no one to talk to, and you only get something when they say you can. Other than that, it's peachy."

Terrence's eye darts to the guards and Bill before moving back to Henry. "Guess what they said was true. You're actually coming here so you can save your friend."

"Yeah," Henry replies after a second.

I know I'm putting in a lot of pauses, but these two don't even send letters to each other, so sharing a room and having a conversation for them is awkward and extremely uncomfortable.

Back on track, Terrence scoffs at Henry's line of thinking, commenting, "And I thought these doctors were crazy. Let me guess: Reggie decided to take something from you because you took something from him? He always was a child."

'Reginald's been in prison since I arrested him.'

"You arrested him?" Terrence repeats as he stands. "The leader of the toppat clan, the most infamous group of bandits and thieves, and you just turned him in to the government? Why didn't you join him, you would've been perfectly fine!"

'Right hand man has my friend, I need to get him back. That's why I'm here.'

Terrence puts his hands on his face and groans. "No. Do not tell me I'm hearing this." He meets eyes with Henry, who nods with a shrug.

"You broke out of prison with a bar from your own cell, stole a diamond on a scooter, and escaped a maximum security prison, but you arrested the leader of the toppat clan, the son of a bitch of did this to me-" Terrence holds his arms out to gesture to his cybernetic body. "- and gave him to the government, but didn't see his lap dog wanting to settle the score or even the odds with you!?"

'A lot goes through my head on missions, okay!?'

Terrence nods, humming cheekily. "I'll bet. Think it would've gone better if you'd used that gun you had? We both know he wasn't going to do anything."

Henry sees himself charging at Right rather than throwing away his gun, but signs back, 'You don't know what he would've done. You haven't seen him.'

Terrence points to a tv in the corner of the room, one right next to the camera. "Saw how he got an upgrade. You can groom and pamper a dog all you want, its bark will still be worse than it's bite."

Henry spots Bill talking to the guards before waving at him and tapping on his wrist, more specifically on a watch. 'Don't take long.'

"Saw their orbital station, too. Like hell you're getting your friend out of space. And like hell sunglasses over there is gonna let you out of his sight if you're serious about that deal."

Henry looks Terrence directly in the eye and nods. 'I know.'

Terrence's face drops as Henry continues.

'During the mission, I hesitated because I was scared he'd kill Charles, my friend. I helped the government by giving them plans, but nothing worked. This is my last option. You are my last option. You weren't around then to tell me what to do, but I need you now because for once I have everything I could ever want, and I'm about to lose it all for being a coward. I know you're not going to like it, or even care, but I just need you to be here when they bring me in. Just be there and tell me I did enough for once, when you're really around. That's all I need right now.'

It's this that makes Terrence drop the "tough loving father" act and makes him realize that this is for real. This is not his son saying, "I made a mistake, fix it for me." This is his son telling him that this is his plan and he needs support to know he's doing the right thing.

Henry is extremely shaky because this is something he does not do with his father. They aren't usually open with each other, as in they do get emotional; toxic masculinity at its finest... and daddy issues.

Regardless, Henry collects himself before signing again.

'I'm going to agree to the terms. If they can send a piece of the ground to space or erase the universe, then they can help me. It's all I can think of doing that'll work.'

Terrence is quiet for a moment, looking at Bill and the guards as they gossip about something before turning back to Henry.

"Are you absolutely sure about this?"

Hebry nods. 'It's all that I can think of that's going to work. Again, if they can send a chunk of land of space or erase the universe, then they can help me.'

Terrence steps back and shakes his head.

"You're going to die here. You know that, right? I'm telling you now it's not worth it."

Henry's face drops.

"Look, I get it. You never were good at keeping friends, but, Henry, I'm telling you, just let this guy go. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life locked in a cage?"

Henry shakes his head as he signs. 'No, but I'm not going to abandon my friend like you abandoned us.'

"I had a clan to run, Henry!" Terrence snaps. "I wanted you to stay, have an easy life, but no. You two just ran off on me!"

'Just because something's easy doesn't always make it right,' Henry signs. He begins signing something else, but stops before continuing. 'Look. I'm accepting the terms. I wanted to tell you now ao you're not disappointed later.'

Henry holds up a hand in farewell and turns to leave, ready to get back to the base and start forming a new plan.

"Henry?"

He turns to see Terrence staring once again, but also sees his throat bobbing, like he's coughing or about to be sick.

"Good... Good luck. Getting your friend back."

Henry's eyes widen and he shakily nods. 'Thanks.'

The two stare at each other like before, but this time they slowly advance towards one another, maneuver their arms until they're in an admittedly awkward, uncomfortable, but welcome embrace; again, emotion is not their strong suit.

"You're going to regret it. Turning yourself in. Life's for living, and you're throwing it away."

Henry pulls back and waves 'goodbye' once more and leaves the room.

"Took you long enough," Bill says as Henry rejoins him. "Have a nice visit?"

Henry narrows his eyes.

"Well, you got your visit. Hope you know how to get into that station."

Henry takes one last look at his father before nodding.

'The terms-'

"Same as advertised," Bill interrupts. "A quarter of our forces as long as you come quietly so we study your ability."

'AFTER my friend is rescued and safe.'

Bill waves him off. "Fine, yes. After your friend's back home and safe." He holds his hand out infront of him and Henry. "What do you say, Henry? Do we have a deal?"

Behind the acrylic, Terrence watches the two of them, his hands against the wall and his eyes on his son.

Henry keeps his eyes on Bill's hand before looking into his eyes. With a mental push, he claps his hand into the corporal's and shakes it, nodding.

"Deal."

Terrence bumps and shakes his head against the wall. "You idiot," he murmurs. "What are you doing?"

AND THAT'S A WRAP ON PART 4!!!!! Oh my goodness, did I enjoy writing this one! A lot of twists and turns and opportunities to just leave you all hanging, I'm not even joking. I haven't really written manipulation or character dynamics like Henry's and Terrence's before, and I think I did pretty well.

Again, check out @multiverse-madness and @azuri-the-imperfect-artist for their Terrence Suave AUs because they are both amazing artists and, honestly, do better with the character than me.😅

For real, all of you, thank you, thank you, thank you, so much for your patience with this one. Like I said in my update post, I have a lot going on in my personal life and just couldn't get in a good creative mindset to do this.

I know we didn't see a lot of Charles this time around, but that's gonna change in Part 5😈

ANYWAY, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!!!!!!